


Moste Potente Potions

by Khawapashi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Drarry, Eventual Happy Ending, First Time, Harry Potter alternate ending, Horcruxes, Lust Potions, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Not Harry or Draco, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Sex Magic, Sirius Lives, Smut and Fluff, Use of Killing Curse, some major characters die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khawapashi/pseuds/Khawapashi
Summary: Draco returns home after having failed in a mission to capture one of Harry's friends, only to find his father has a very interesting surprise waiting for him...Canon-ish, diverges around the summer before Book 7, except Sirius is alive because it's fan fiction and I can do what I want. There's some amortentia-type potion use that makes it dubcon, but there's no violence and very minor restraint. Tags for blood and gore involve decapitation of an enemy. Happy ending with both boys together. Wizards come of age at seventeen, but I'm just gonna pretend they are eighteen for obvious reasons.This is my first HP fic, so please be kind, I guess??
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are only two chapters here, and this fic is finished so next chapter should be up next week.

It was unusually quiet in the Manor when Draco approached, choosing to Apparate at the gate and walk in the hopes of avoiding as much notice as possible. He was too tired to deal with the Dark Lord's scumbag maniacs after risking his life on another meaningless raid, searching for the house in Islington that still lay under a Fidelius Charm.

There was a clucking squawk from the shadows to his right, and one of his father's stupid peacocks pecked at his ankle. He flicked his wand in its direction, sending it scurrying with an  _ Incendio _ that didn't quite reach its tail and marveling that it was somehow still alive given its suicidal aggressiveness. Perhaps it saved its ire for Draco alone, taking advantage of the fact that he still hesitated to indulge in the same absolute cruelty most of the other Death Eaters embraced. 

Entering through the sun room, with its large French doors that opened on the water garden, he was relieved to find the path to his nearby rooms dark and empty. He made it through the door with a heavy sigh, and turned to cast the strongest wards he knew to bar others entry, when his father's voice interrupted him.

"Welcome home, Draco. I take it you had a challenging night?" Lucius was sitting in the dark at Draco's large solid oak desk, his hands steepled before him with only his pale hair visible in the dim room.

Draco aimed his wand at the sconces in the far wall, setting them alight, then leaned back against the door and folded his arms, his expression carefully blank.

"It was unproductive, as usual," he said vaguely. In truth, Draco had spent most of his night purposely drawing out Hermione Granger and the She-Weasel, a pointless challenge he had been directed to by Severus. They hadn't known exactly who would be patrolling the area, but he was able to give Draco the usual paths taken, and when he caught sight of the unmistakable ginger hair it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to apply himself without actually advancing the Dark Lord's cause.

He peered down at the wand in his hand with a bored, petulant scowl. "I had a run in with Potter's pet mudblood and the girl Weasley. Granger's pants at defense, but the little ginger pest is surprisingly adept."

"You did well to emerge unscathed, then," Lucius allowed, sparing a glance to ensure Draco had no apparent injuries. "And your distraction proved vital to other efforts. The Dark Lord is quite pleased with you. As am I, of course."

Draco barely contained his shock, the quick stiffening of his shoulders as he raised his head might have been interpreted that way, but he managed to deceive his father with an arrogant smile instead. His mother would have seen through it, but Lucius had always been an unperceptive arse. That's how their whole family had been dragged into this catastrophic mess to begin with. His only hope now was that Severus's faith in Dumbledore and Potter's impossible resiliency were enough to save them all.

"That's alright, then," was all he said, waiting for Lucius to explain himself in more detail. Which he would do, of course, his father did love the sound of his own voice.

"I don't think you understand, Draco," he went on, predictably. "Our Lord has arranged a fantastic gift for you, at your Aunt Bella's suggestion. I trust you will be properly grateful."

Mind racing with possibilities, most of them entirely unpalatable, Draco struggled to maintain his composure as his general nervousness around his father gave way to fear. He had spent the better part of the previous summer learning Occlumency from Bellatrix, and she had broken him down almost entirely. In particular, she had forced him to confront the reality of his draw towards Potter, and in turn his own sexuality. He had been waiting for her to divulge his secrets to his parents, or the Dark Lord, or most likely both so they could punish him accordingly and in his despair at the thought, he had sought help from the only adult he felt he could trust.

It had been Severus's idea that saved him from the worst of Bellatrix's torment, allowing her access while subtly focusing on his more… aggressive fantasies. She was easy enough to convince, given her own delight in the pain and suffering of others, that his desires for Harry Potter were purely carnal, a need to seek the ultimate domination of his long-time enemy. There was no reason for her to look further than that, and Draco was a teenage boy, such fantasies were to be expected, even if he was shamefully drawn to the wrong sex.

"Draco," Lucius called for his attention and he swallowed, grimacing inwardly as he forced himself to meet his father's eyes. "This is a truly precious gift, but I do hope it is enough to overcome your frivolous fancies."

"I'm sorry?" He choked, noticing the way Lucius was eyeing the closed door leading into his bedroom from the study.

"Bella mentioned what she'd seen in your mind, your… unnatural desires. I cannot say I was entirely surprised, but whatever you do in your own rooms is your business, I suppose. So long as you marry and produce an heir -"

Draco waved a hand dismissively, rolling his eyes at his father's obviously rehearsed speech. "Yes, I think I quite understand what's expected of me. You needn't spell it out."

"If you are not capable of performing with a wife, there are spells -" He stopped as Draco strode away towards his bedroom, seeking to avoid as much of this conversation as possible and suddenly quite anxious about whatever seemed to be waiting for him behind the closed door. He paused with a hand on the door when he felt the heavy wards placed upon it, turning again to face his father.

"Are you going to tell me what I'm walking in on, or am I to understand it's a surprise?" His hand clenched on the handle of his wand when Lucius raised his mother's wand, the one they were forced to share after the maniacal bastard broke his, unsealing the door.

"The Dark Lord thought it better to surprise you," he said with a shrug. "And since you appear anxious for your gift, I shall leave you to it."

He rose finally, stepping around the desk and stopping only once with his hand on the hall door to give Draco a disappointed look. "I expect to see you at breakfast and continue our discussion of your future. Your mother and I have given you everything a child could possibly want for, the very least you can do is continue our lineage and keep your distasteful habits behind closed doors."

"Yes, Father. I never intended for you to know at all." He returned the snide look with his own cold scowl. "Never fear, I am well aware of your expectations of me."

He barely waited for the door to fully shut behind Lucius before he aimed several spells at it, barring entry to anyone but himself or Severus Snape, and added a few nasty curses just in case anyone got through his wards. Then he faced the door to his bedroom, wand at the ready, and slowly opened it.

  
  
  


Harry woke to the sound of low voices, most likely coming from another room, and forced open bleary eyes to take in his surroundings. He was lying on something surprisingly soft, but his hands and feet were splayed and bound with thick, sturdy cuffs that offered absolutely no give at all. The room refused to come into focus, because of course they'd taken his glasses, and with that realisation came the memory of how he'd gotten here.

Or how he'd gotten captured, anyway. He had no memory of being stripped naked and tied to a bed, only of Bellatrix Lestrange laughing in his face, Ron shouting a warning at his back, and then a well-aimed curse slamming into his back, knocking him to the ground. Then there was only the incredible agony of multiple  _ Crucios _ until he lost consciousness, the sound of that infernal, high laughter ringing in his ears.

Despite being stripped bare of even his pants and left without cover in the winter air, Harry felt a strange warmth all over his body that made him slightly giddy, though he fought against it. His pulse pounded heavily in his head and his mind felt… not foggy, but distracted, focused on the undeniably pleasant and frustratingly vague feeling that held the promise of something even more exciting. He tried to lift his head and get a better look around, but the room was large and dark and all he could really make out were dark blue hangings around the four-poster bed he was inelegantly posed on.

The movement did make him aware of something else, however, and he swallowed a gasp of pure terror as he realised exactly what he was feeling. Now he was wide awake, shifting in a vain attempt to ease the disconcerting heat creeping over his skin and the undeniable weight of his prick, awake and hard over his abdomen. It only seemed to get worse as Harry became more aware, and he was soon panting and struggling against his body's insistent desire to somehow move, to alleviate what was becoming a painful insistence.

The doorknob turned and Harry's eyes flew to it, wide and desperate as he prayed for… He couldn't imagine  _ anyone _ he'd be happy to see him like this, not even Ginny, but he was certainly not expecting to see Draco- _sodding_ -Malfoy stride through, slamming the heavy wooden door and casting a dozen strong wards, most of them simply barring entry. Malfoy's head tilted to one side as he took in the sight of Harry on his bed, and although Harry couldn't make out his expression, he didn't seem to be as thrilled to have his hated enemy laid out helplessly as one would expect.

And Harry never imagined how relieved he would be to see that it was Malfoy -  _ just _ Malfoy. Not Voldemort or bloody Bellatrix or even Draco's father. He exhaled a breath he didn't realise he was holding, and Malfoy moved towards him quickly, a flick of his wand releasing Harry's wrists and one ankle, leaving him chained, but able to make himself much more comfortable. Relatively, anyway, given the state of his inexplicable arousal. 

Blinking, he scrambled into a sitting position with his freed hands covering himself as much as possible. A soft chuckle and whisper of fabric alerted him, and he squinted up blindly to see Malfoy holding out a dressing gown, his eyes averted in an entirely confounding gesture.

"Er… Thank you?" Harry rasped, his throat dry and hoarse, probably from screaming. He took the offered garment and wrapped it around himself as best he could, still blushing at the thought that Malfoy now knew what he looked like naked and aroused.

"Are you alright? Did they… They didn't hurt you, did they?" Malfoy remained stiffly facing away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, until Harry responded.

"I don't think so, but the last thing I remember is being hit with your Aunt's Cruciatus about twenty times until I blacked out." He bit his lip, moving over on the massive bed until there was plenty of space between him and Malfoy. "I suppose that hurt, but if you mean did they do anything... _ worse _ , then no, I'm alright. And I'm, er, covered now, so you can turn around."

Maybe he shouldn't have said that, because when Malfoy did face him, gray eyes wide and sweeping over him with obvious interest, Harry nearly whimpered. The surge of arousal through his body was so strong he was forced to close his eyes, digging his chewed fingernails into his palms until it hurt enough to ground him. "What the fuck is going on, Malfoy?"

"I'm not sure how to answer such a vague inquiry, Potter, but I'll start by assuring you that whatever Aunt Bella and the Dark Lord meant by this, I am not, in fact, so cruel as to force myself on you. Or anyone, for that matter," he grimaced, sitting gingerly at the edge of the mattress. "Regardless of what you may think of me, I find the very idea repulsive."

"I didn't think you would," Harry said, avoiding Malfoy's eyes because they really had no right to be such a vivid shade of gray, like quicksilver. He toyed with the tie of the wonderfully soft flannel robe around him and sternly told himself he was  _ not _ disappointed that Malfoy didn't want to fuck him.

"Potter, are you sure you're alright? You're unusually civil," Malfoy noted, leaning closer with a worried frown. He froze suddenly, eyes dropping downwards to Harry's lap. Where he was completely unconsciously pressing a palm over himself and squeezing his thighs.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry…" Harry went back to clenching his fists at his sides and tried to will himself to calm down. He took several deep breaths under Malfoy's concerned frown.

"It's not your fault," he said suddenly, drawing Harry's attention. Looking up was a mistake, the other boy was far closer than Harry expected, his hair falling over his face and his pupils wide and dark when their eyes met. Harry lifted a hand, pushing the stray locks back behind Malfoy's ear, mesmerized by the silky feel of it between his fingers.

Malfoy drew back abruptly, catching his hand and pulling it away from his hair, and Harry  _ whimpered _ at the rejection.

"Stop. Listen to me, they've given you a lust potion, alright? You don't really want me, it's just an effect of the potion." His voice was unusually low, sounding strained. "I can help you, but I need to do some simple diagnostics first. Do you understand, Potter?"

Harry tried to find his tongue but only managed a muffled groan before slamming his eyes shut, every muscle clenched against the desperate, urgent need to touch and be touched. 

"Potter… Harry, look at me," Malfoy demanded sternly, but Harry mutely shook his head. Cool fingers gripped his chin, lifting it slightly, and even that minimal touch sent a rush of warmth and need through him. "Open your eyes, please."

"No," Harry muttered. "Don't want to… see your stupid pretty face."

"What?"

Gritting his teeth, Harry jerked his face out of Malfoy's grasp and took a steadying breath.

"You. You're too…" he sighed, tired of fighting with himself, and risked a glance at Malfoy, noting his startled expression. "You're fucking gorgeous, you know? I want to feel your soft hair… look in your eyes and see you when you…  _ Christ. _ Help me, for fuck's sake… This is almost worse than the Cruciatus."

"Yes, I imagine it's very traumatic for you to suddenly want to be buggered by me, of all people," Malfoy sneered, waving his wand in a swirling pattern. "I'd like to murder that vile bitch, but familial homicide is frowned upon in pureblood society."

"It's not sudden," Harry laughed bitterly, because he'd really only just figured it out himself, privately vowing not to share his weird crush with a single person, and now here he was spilling his guts to Malfoy himself. "I think it started… Fourth year? I don't know, a lot of things happened that year… But I remember watching you dance and…"

He broke off, shaking his head, and stared down at his clenched fists, now pressed firmly against his thighs because it seemed to relieve some of the pulsing ache. Malfoy made a strange sound, something between a laugh and groan, and Harry looked up at the sound.

"And…?" Malfoy prompted, lips pressed thin as he met Harry's stare impassively. "You watched me dancing?"

"Watched your arse, more like," Harry answered before he thought. "Oh, fuck this. What the hell did they give me, Malfoy? Lust potion  _ and _ Veritaserum?"

"Not quite. Sit tight a moment for me," he said cryptically, sliding off the bed to light the sconces in the walls and casting a strong  _ Incendio _ at the fireplace. Another wave of his wand summoned a bubble of silence around Malfoy, which Harry understood when he saw him take a handful of powder from a silver urn on the mantle and toss it into the fire.

He knelt and crawled into the green flames, somehow managing to look graceful in spite of the awkward position and giving Harry an excellent view of the firm posterior he'd just admitted to admiring. Whoever he was speaking to, it took place on their end of the connection, and Harry had no way of knowing who it was. He shamelessly took advantage of Malfoy's distraction to press a palm firmly against the base of his desperate length, nearly crying out with relief just from that light touch. Unintentionally, he closed his eyes, jumping when Malfoy's amused voice broke the silence.

"Would you like some help?"

Harry jerked his hands away, choosing to sit on them this time, and felt his whole body flush under those darkened silver eyes. 

"Sorry, I didn't… I'm only human, you know."

"Yes, I'm aware." Surprisingly, Malfoy took a seat beside him on the bed, lazily unlacing his boots and kicking them off, followed by the fitted short robe he was wearing. He let both fall into a pile on the floor, then leaned back on his elbows, sprawling over the width of the bed and turning his gaze on Harry again. "You'll be relieved to know, the cure for the potion is simple enough, according to Severus."

"You were talking to  _ Snape _ ? About this?" Harry growled, earning himself a dour look from Malfoy.

"Who else would know about the usual potions employed by Dark Wizards? Would you rather I asked Slughorn?"

"God, no!" Harry sighed, completely distracted again by the sight of Malfoy sprawled back on his elbows, quickly working at the buttons of his long-sleeved black shirt. He licked his lips and sat up, inching closer without thought. "Malfoy, why are you undressing?"

"Why do you think, Potter? There's no antidote to Bellatrix's potion." He cast Harry a slightly devious smirk. "But there is an easy solution. And since it seems you were interested before… Well, it's not proper consent, but we don't have a lot of choices and I need you to be functional if we're going to get you out of here."

"Wait, you… You're going to help me escape? Why?"

"Because I'm not  _ them _ , and I've tried to be, believe me, but unfortunately even smashing your  _ stupid pretty face _ wasn't enough to kill my conscience," Malfoy sighed, ridding himself of his shirt and lowering his hands to the buckle of his dragonhide belt. "I'm betraying my family for you, Potter, I hope you'll remember that."

Harry stared at him numbly, entranced by the movement of those long, slender hands unfastening and pushing down his trousers. He was consumed now with curiosity, though he had heard Malfoy's explanation, it all seemed less important than the more pressing need to see him, all of him, as bare as Harry had been when he'd first come in the room.

A persistent tugging at his ankle reminded Harry that he was still stuck there, but in the haze of arousal and need, his magic soared within him and the final cuff fell away, freeing him to climb on top of Malfoy and crash their lips together. Malfoy's cry of surprise was swallowed by Harry's moan, and then his hands came up to slide through Harry's hair, cupping the back of his head. Any fears that Malfoy would refuse his affection were silenced when he licked into Harry's parted mouth, tongue plunging in and sliding eagerly against his own.

Harry straddled him, sliding his hands down to push at his pants while Malfoy shoved aside the dressing gown and took hold of his cock.

"Yes, yes,  _ God _ , yes," Harry moaned into Malfoy's warm mouth. "Please -"

"Have you done this before?" Harry pushed up to his knees to free them both of the last bits of clothing hanging on them and met Malfoy's heated gaze with a shudder, forcing himself to answer.

"No. I've never - er - gone all the way. With anyone." He lowered his eyes, flushing, leaning into the contact when Malfoy's hand cupped his cheek. 

"You're a virgin? Seriously, you, of all people?" At his nod, Malfoy seemed to come to a decision, though he didn't quite suppress a smug smile. "It's my honor, then, Chosen One." He gently encouraged Harry to lie on his back, shushing his hesitant sound with kisses. "Don't worry, you're going to fuck me, we'll keep it simple this time."

"How -" Harry started to ask, but at that precise moment he felt Malfoy's erection slide against his own length, and he cried out at the incredible rush of pleasure, bucking his hips instinctively for more. "Oh, God." Harry closed his eyes. "Yes, whatever you want, Malfoy."

"I want you to call me Draco," he hummed in Harry's ear, trailing heated kisses down his neck and over the slope of his shoulder.

"Draco," Harry tried it out, smiling slightly at the strange feel of it on his tongue. His own hands slid down to feel Draco's prick, eagerly stroking it like he would his own, drawing the foreskin up and down in slowly increasing movements.

"Merlin, Potter -"

"Harry," he grinned at the look of amusement cast down at him from those darkened silver eyes. Before he realised what was happening, Draco had leaned over him and captured his hand, murmuring a spell to summon oil in Harry's palm. "One finger first, Harry. Gently."

"I know how to do it," he said, still unable to hide the wonder in his voice as he reached around to work Draco's tight hole. "I, er… Have done it to myself, actually."

"My you're full of surprises today, aren't you?" He closed his eyes as Harry pressed into him, mouth open in a gorgeously sexy pant. Soon enough, Draco was rocking back, fucking himself on Harry's finger and demanding another. "Oh, Harry… please don't hate me when this is over, I beg you."

"Won't - haven't hated you for a while now," Harry mumbled reassuringly. “If I ever really did.”

Right now, he couldn't imagine hating Draco, watching the expressions of lust and heat play out over his pale face. He was flushed all the way to his shoulders, mouth half-open, and Harry had never seen anything so fucking hot in his life. He knew he would probably come the second he got even partially inside Draco's body, and concentrated on holding it back, because he'd be damned if he just used someone to get rid of a spell without making it just as good for them. He used his other hand to wrap around their cocks and hold them together, moaning at the feeling of friction and working Draco up so he wouldn't be as much of a disappointment. 

"Merlin, Harry! I'm ready, please…"

"I won't last," Harry mumbled, earning a low chuckle in his ear.

"I know. You'll just have to suck me off after, if you must have it be an equal exchange."

"Fuck," Harry groaned, the very idea making his pulse beat wildly in his head. He hurriedly slipped his fingers out, gripping his aching prick and leaving Draco to guide him inside.

They both gasped when he breached Draco fully past the head of his prick, and he paused, eyes closed and panting softly. Harry dug his fists into the sheets, using every ounce of willpower to hold himself still while he waited, refusing to hurt him even though the need to thrust was agonizing. Slowly, Draco eased himself down, until he gave in halfway with a needful growl and rolled his hips firmly, taking Harry all the way to the hilt.

It was so hot and tight around him, like nothing Harry had ever imagined, and he couldn't help give little, unintentional thrusts while Draco trembled and rocked above him.

"Harry…"

"Am I hurting you?" He was trying his damned best, but the effort was making him sweat and shake, and he exhaled in relief when Draco shook his head. "Fuck Bellatrix and her fucking potion, I wish we could have just done this properly, on our own -"

"It's alright, it's just… intense. Gods, promise me you'll want to do it again, please, just lie to me if you must." He gasped when Harry took a firm grip on his hips, finding and locking onto his gaze.

"I'm not lying, and this is pretty brilliant, I can't imagine not wanting it again," he admitted, holding Draco's eyes insistently. "I fancy you a lot, you know. Ask my friends about my 'Malfoy obsession', if you don't believe me."

" _ You're _ obsessed?" Malfoy shook his head wonderingly then closed his eyes, lowering his head to capture Harry's mouth in a heated, filthy kiss that was enthusiastically returned. "Fuck me, Harry," he gasped as they parted. "Just… let go and do it."

He moaned rather loudly when Harry bucked his hips, his eyes closed and their foreheads pressed together as they moved. Malfoy met his every thrust with a downward roll and a cry of pleasure, until Harry's whole body grew taut and he was shuddering and crying Draco's name, over and over until his vision went white. Waves of pleasure so powerful they were almost painful washed over him, rendering him frozen and helpless while Draco ground down on him, his breath hot and ragged in Harry's ear.

"Yes, Harry, fuck, yes! Come for me!"

As soon as he could move and think again, Harry pushed at his chest until Draco rolled off of him, then slithered bonelessly down his pale body. He took a moment briefly to draw his hands over the lightly-sculpted chest with its soft dusting of golden hair, to kiss and flick his tongue into the shallow divot of his stomach and nip at the narrow edges of sharp hip bones, listening avidly for Draco’s every groan and gasp. Promising himself if they both survived, he would do it all again with a much more thorough exploration, Harry wasted no more time in taking his hard, twitching length into his mouth as far as he could get it. He'd never done anything like it before, but he knew what felt good to him, and he did the best he could to keep it wet and free of teeth.

The throbbing discomfort and lack of focus had passed with his orgasm, clearing his mind so he could finally think straight, but he was still determined not to leave his partner unsatisfied. Especially when he'd just let Harry fuck him in order to relieve Bellatrix's vile potion, likely the exact opposite of what she'd intended to happen. Draco had clearly felt the same budding, irritating attraction that had plagued him, coloring their interactions with a pernicious edge, and now that they both knew what it was, there was no way they could just let it go.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, relaxing his jaw and opening his throat, quite eagerly performing what he’d occasionally fantasized about and relishing Draco’s shameless moans and the little thrusts that escaped his control. The salty taste was strange on his tongue, but he loved the scent of his body so close and intimate, masculine and thick, a mix of clean sweat and whatever citrusy soap he used. 

"Merlin, you don't have to - Harry -" Draco gripped his hair and tugged. "Harry, I'm going to -"

Harry rolled his eyes, looking up and continuing to bob his head and suck, knowing full well what the end result would be. With a hoarse, broken cry, Draco finally came undone for him, spilling into Harry's mouth and fisting his hands in his hair. He coughed and gagged a little at the taste, but managed to swallow it all anyway, catching the raised pale brows of the boy above him with a smug grin.

"Idiot Gryffindor. It's not a challenge."

"I beg to differ," Harry shrugged, wiping saliva and fluid from his mouth as he crawled back up the bed to lie beside Draco. He flinched when Draco went to kiss him, but he didn't seem to care that Harry had just had a mouthful of his own spend, eagerly and thoroughly exploring with tongue and little nibbles of sharp teeth.  They broke apart, breathlessly eyeing each other with a mix of awe and bewilderment, and Harry wondered if Draco, too, was left wondering if this would all turn out to be a particularly vivid dream.

"What now?" Harry asked when it seemed the Slytherin was content to just stare at him with wide silver eyes.

"Now, we sleep," Draco sighed tiredly, rolling his eyes at Harry's frown of disbelief. "If you can't, I won't blame you, but at least give me the chance to rest a few hours. I might actually be able to now that you're here…" He yawned, eyes falling closed as Harry watched, and he noticed now that he was paying attention the dark hollows around them and the gaunt appearance of Draco’s cheeks. "Your girlfriend nearly killed me, you know -"

"Girlfriend? Do you mean Ginny or Hermione? When did you see -"

"Earlier tonight, I was assigned to yet another search party. They're determined to find the Black residence, it's driving Bellatrix mad knowing the lot of you are there and she can't get to it," he sneered.

"She's already mad."

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Potter. At any rate, everyone's been assigned nightly raids searching for it. Not that I intend to help, but I do have to make it appear as though I am so… I've taken to watching for the Weasleys and engaging them when I can." He yawned again and waved his hand, summoning a thick duvet from the foot of the bed to cover them. "I never intend to hurt them - much - but it's excellent cover, makes me look profoundly useless while keeping up the idea that I still harbor my well-known hatred of all Gryffindors."

"I see," Harry said quietly, turning onto his side to regard Draco with a solemn interest.

"Do you?"

"Yes, actually. You want out, don't you? That's why you took so long with Snape - you weren't just discussing the potion. He's told you about… everything." One sleepy gray eye opened and Draco chuckled softly, then reached out under the covers to slide an arm around Harry, pulling himself closer and tucking his face into Harry's shoulder.

"Not 'everything' I'm sure. He is a Slytherin, after all. But yes, we have been working together ever since the Dark Lord marked me. And now that you're here, the cavalry's been summoned, so don't fret, Potter. Your rabble will no doubt be upon us soon. Severus will send us warning ahead of time, but not too far ahead." He sighed, breath warm and comforting against Harry's bare skin. "Just… hold me while I have you, please? It's only a few hours, and you can be Saint Potter again. I promise, I won't tell anyone -"

"You can still call me Harry, I think we're past the point of surnames for the future, Draco," he reminded him, wrapping his arms around him as best he could and retrieving Draco's dark hawthorn wand from the bedside table. "And I don't care if you want to tell anyone or not, I'll still protect you."

"Of course," he replied with a low chuckle, voice muffled. "Whatever you want." 

There was a long pause where Harry thought he'd fallen asleep, but Draco stirred to move into a more comfortable position, resettling himself so his head rested on the edge of the pillow. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Can you really defeat Him?"

Harry took a deep breath, weighing his options. Hermione and Ron would probably murder him if it turned out he had placed his trust wrongly, but he thought about Dumbledore and the perspective he'd gained from watching the rise of Voldemort through the Headmaster's memories. To someone like Draco, trust was probably an unthinkable luxury, one of the few things Harry possessed that he couldn't buy or steal. He'd spent the last year with evil personified living in his house, not just Voldemort but the Lestranges and the other Death Eaters, and whether or not he'd taken the Mark willingly, he was clearly disillusioned by it now.

Really, all the evidence Harry needed to persuade him had already been given, though if Draco wanted it kept between them, he would do his best to honor his wishes.

"Just promise me something." Harry waited, watching as Draco pushed himself up on one elbow to look at him, sensing the serious tone in his voice.

"I have to know what I'm promising first."

"If it looks as if  _ He _ is protecting Nagini for some reason, she has to be killed. I can't tell you more than that, it's too dangerous, but I mean it. Even if… If it seems hopeless, just focus on that. Kill the snake and he'll go down just like any other wizard."

"Are you serious? Focus on his bloody  _ snake _ ?" Draco glowered. "You'd better not be trying to pull one over on me, Po - Harry."

"I'm not, I swear it." Harry fumbled under the covers to find his hand and held it tightly, holding his focus steady on those fluid silver eyes. "Promise me."

"Alright, alright. I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

_ Fucking promises… _ Draco stood helplessly as Harry faced the Dark Lord, only his clenched fist and the brightness of his emerald gaze giving away his fear. He still had Draco's wand in the pocket of the robes he'd leant him, after they were awakened by the throbbing pain of the Mark summoning them. He'd had no choice but to bring Harry with him, knowing if he didn't the others would immediately suspect treachery, but he didn't have the heart to make him march through the Manor naked.

So, in a burst of brilliance, Draco had thrown him one of his old uniforms, trimmed in silver and green with the Slytherin badge sewn into the breast. He'd thought it would be fitting with the air of petulant cruelty he had worked to project, and indeed, it seemed his image was untarnished, as the sight of Harry Potter in Slytherin robes had brought a few chuckles from those watching, and an annoyed eyeroll from Draco's father.

Just as Harry had suggested, Nagini appeared to be wrapped in a good dozen protective spells and wards, her sinuous form twined around Bellatrix's neck and shoulders. The weight must have been staggering, but she managed to stay upright, though Draco could see beads of sweat on her forehead, betraying her struggle to bear her beloved Lord's punishment.

He nearly bit through his own lip when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse and Harry collapsed, but he quickly covered his instinctive sob with a rude, impulsive laugh, earning him a worried look from his mother. The Dark Lord barely seemed to notice, though he pointed his wand at Narcissa.

"Check and make sure it took this time," that high, cold voice ordered, and Draco's brain suddenly kicked into overdrive, gears shifting so rapidly he felt himself reeling.

_ Make sure it took. This time. _ So the Dark Lord had cast a Killing Curse on him before, and it had somehow failed?

That hope was all that Draco had to see him through, and he held to it as tightly as he held himself to the promise he'd made. While the others cheered at his mother's pronouncement that Harry Potter was indeed dead, Draco kept his eye on his aunt, and waited. Most of the Death Eaters were gathered in the Manor's parlour, but he knew Macnair and Avery would be on guard at the doors, and kept his ears open for any sound at all from the hallway.

The others celebrated, shooting off sparks from their wands and ordering the Malfoy's few remaining elves to bring up Lucius' most precious vintages from the cellars, but Draco strode to Harry's side, under the guise of aiming a few hard kicks to his knees and arse.

"Draco, let's don't be macabre," his mother chastised.

"Oi, let him have his fun, witch!" Uncle Rodulphus argued, aiming a drunken kick of his own. "In fact, why's he even dressed, Draco? Weren't you s'possed to be -"

"That's enough, Rodulphus," Lucius silenced him, turning to lay a hand on Draco's shoulder. Glaring, Draco shrugged him off, and his aunt roused herself enough to join the argument, though he tuned them all out. Under the sound of his family arguing and the Death Eaters' crude jokes, he had caught the sound of a whispered hex in a familiar voice and the soft twin thuds of bodies hitting the floor outside.

Draco ignored them all, bending to retrieve his wand from Harry's still-warm body, forcing back the lump in his throat and the tears that threatened. He made a promise to himself, assuaging his grief with assurances that he would make them pay, all of them, his father included, just as soon as his promise to Harry was fulfilled. Wand successfully retrieved, he focused on Bella, now seated in one of the wingbacks near the fire, the snake's heavy coils in her lap.

With any luck, he could take out both of them in one strike. Getting in place was easy enough, she was clearly exhausted and the others were paying him little mind, though he felt his mother's eyes following him. Hopefully, she wouldn't speak again, it was clear she was concerned for his well-being and he knew she was smart enough to realise how dangerous calling attention to him again would be. He just had to believe she cared more for him than she did for her sister, and that Lucius was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

Draco had just managed to get in place behind his aunt's chair and cast a Disillusionment over himself when the Dark Lord spoke over them all, and his worst fears were made real.

"If I could have your attention, please, my friends. It appears we have guests." He looked towards Bellatrix, but didn't seem to see past Draco's charm, moving on quickly to Narcissa. "Go and let them in, we musn't be rude now."

Eyes wide and clearly confused, her expression was mirrored by many of the others, though Bella gave a high cackle. At length, his mother followed orders and went to open the door of the parlour, where she immediately fell to a wandless spell Draco didn't recognize.

Instead of commenting, the Dark Lord simply smiled, as venomous and poised as ever, giving a little nod to whichever Weasley stood over Narcissa's motionless form.

"Come in, come in!" He beckoned, waving his wand when the man hesitated. Several red-haired men, no doubt Ronald's older brothers, floated into the room under his spell, followed by several others Draco only vaguely recognized - one was his cousin Nymphadora, he thought, and the blonde woman was Fleur Delacour. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Refreshments?"

Voldemort laughed, going on to make some lengthy speech while levitating Harry's lifeless body for them all to see, and Draco ignored all of it.  _ Kill the snake and he'll go down… _

But how, exactly? He knew several hexes and a few curses that would pierce the back of the chair, murdering Bella in a myriad of gorey ways, but the charms on the snake were stronger than anything Draco had ever had to face. He scanned the room, eyeing the members of the Order now forced to endure Voldemort's cruel hospitality, and a thought occurred to him.

Where in Merlin's name were Potter's sidekicks? Where were any of the students, actually, now that he came to think of it. Even the other Weasleys, the twins just a year above them, seemed to be missing, and he doubted it was because they'd been too scared to fight.

Very quietly, he turned towards the wall and whispered a spell, noting several groups of red humanish outlines on the far side, before he dismissed it quickly. So this was only the vanguard, then. Ronald and Granger must have been around somewhere, perhaps doing something that Potter had made them promise to as well. If anyone could get past the Dark Lord's Charms, it was Granger. But he needed time to get to her, and in the meantime, he couldn't have anyone suspecting…

He whispered several more spells, this time aimed at the back of the chair. Bella's soft gasp was drowned by the sound of the Dark Lord's speech, and true to form, he continued to command the room, sparing her not even a glance. Anyone looking might have caught the telltale flash of green, but the chair's design hid it quite conveniently, as it also hid the concealed stairwell down to the wine cellars.

He spelled the opening locked behind him, then took off at a run across the wide, dark room, heading for the entry to the kitchens on the opposite side. His path brought him through the dungeons, but he was moving so quickly he'd almost reached the far stairs before the sound of his name called in a female voice stopped him.

"Draco!"

He peered into the darkness of the cells, grateful that Wormtail had gone upstairs with the others at his master's summons. She was grimy and her school robes were torn, but he recognized the blonde hair and ridiculous earrings.

"Lovegood? What are you doing here?"

"I think the better question is; what are  _ you _ doing?" She blinked at the light from his wand tip, eyes widening when he flicked it at the cell door, opening it.

"Come on, we don't have time to linger," he hurried her along. "We've got to get the rescue party to Potter, and hope to Merlin and Morganna he's not actually dead like the Dark Lord believes."

Luna gave him a strangely piercing look. "You're a  _ coatl _ hiding among vipers, aren't you?"

"What?" He shook his head, grabbing her hand and dragging her along to the kitchen stairwell. "Stay close and keep quiet. We're looking for Granger and Weasley."

"Oh! Wait, Draco -" She tugged against his hand, the other rummaging in the pocket of her robe and bringing forth a battered Galleon. "I can help, wait!"

"Lovegood, now's not the time -"

"Let me see your wand." She held her hand out, ignoring his incredulous stammering, and at a loss for better options, Draco went against his every instinct and handed it over. Wand in hand, she muttered to herself, then tapped the Galleon, which he could now see was fake and appeared to have some kind of Protean Charm on it.

_ W/ Draco in dungeons _ , one side spelled out, while the other read _ , Hurry! Luna. _

"Who is supposed to be reading that now?" He asked, after he'd gotten over the incredibly complex spellwork contained in such a strange object. "And why do you have an enchanted fake Galleon? Didn't they search you?"

"Oh, they took my wand," she answered vaguely. "I don't think they cared about anything else."

"Okay. Right." He looked back and forth from the dungeons to the kitchen stairs. "Eh, how exactly do you expect them to find us? It's not as if they've been here before, even I don't know all the passage ways -"

But at that point, he was interrupted by footsteps on the stairs, coming from both the kitchens and the main stairwell that led down from the Great Hall. Draco had only a moment to make his move, and he pushed Lovegood behind him against the wall, shielding her with his own body and trying to look both ways at once.

Luckily, he didn't have to make a choice, as two men descended, one right after the other, and faced each other down the dusty stone floor.

"Severus -" Wormtail opened his mouth to whine.

_ "Aveda Kedavra! _ " 

Draco and Luna both froze, stunned at the sudden confrontation and the complete lack of hesitation before the flash of green ended the greasy little man forever.

"Draco," Snape barely spared him a glance. "Granger and Weasley are being held by Greyback in the dining room." He handed over two wands as he passed, not breaking his stride. "Minerva will be arriving shortly, I presume, now that the Carrows have been dealt with. Try to stay alive until then."

"But, Sir, Harry -"

"Whatever you've been told about Potter, forget it," Snape interrupted dismissively. "I daresay Granger can fill you in on the truth."

He had no idea what to say to that, so instead he simply offered Weasley's wand to Luna and led the way to the kitchens. He didn't ask her to, but he wasn't surprised when she followed him, nor was he at all shocked to see her aim a nasty slicing hex at the werewolf the moment they walked through the door. 

Draco cast the Killing Curse for the second time in his life, because he couldn't let Lovegood or Granger do it, and he'd given the Ravenclaw Weasley's wand.

Ronald stared at him over Greyback's body, and he imagined he wore a similar grim expression as the one the Gryffindor directed at him. Behind him, Granger was sniffling and wiping her eyes as Lovegood healed the vicious bite on her shoulder to the best of her abilities, both of them speaking too quietly for Draco to hear. It didn't escape his notice that Weasley had put himself between the two girls and Draco, wandless and all, the twit.

"That was cold, Malfoy," he commented, nudging Greyback with his shoe. 

"Sorry, I would have loved to give you the pleasure, but we haven't the time," he replied, casting a quick look behind him and ensuring the door was shut and warded. "And I gave your wand to Lovegood."

"I noticed. More scared of me than Hermione?"

Draco laughed hoarsely, and a little too loud. "No. The opposite, in fact. I need Granger's help, you're entirely adjunct."

"Oh."

"Why do you need my help?" Granger spoke up, gathering herself in a valiant effort and coming to his side. "And why should I give it to you?"

"Because it's not for me. Harry -" he swallowed, he couldn't help it, and both Gryffindors noticed.

"Oh, it's Harry now, is it?" Granger said archly, at the same time Ron snickered and narrowed his eyes.

"Didn't know you were on friendly terms, Malfoy. Although I guess that means what Greyback said is true." He tried to grab his wand from Luna, but she had wisely given him a wide berth, while Granger sniffed again and pointed hers firmly at Draco.

"What did you  _ do _ , Malfoy? Did you - did you really -" She swallowed, lips pressed together thinly, and it didn't take much thought to connect the dots. Draco shook his head, holding both hands up pleadingly.

"I didn't - I know what they say, but I'm not like that, you have to believe me!" He looked around at the three sets of suspicious eyes and cursed Potter's innocent belief in his friends. They'd never believe the truth, and there was so much evidence to the contrary, he only had his word and a vaguely pleasant ache in his body -

"Granger," he said quickly, making eye contact only with her. "Can you use Legilimency?"

She nodded, looking a bit uncomfortable, and Draco carefully forced himself not to resist while allowing moments of the previous night to surface, flashes of memory too scattered to give much detail, but enough to get the point across. Granger dropped her wand with a quiet gasp, raising her other hand to cover her mouth and lowering her eyes to stare pointedly at his chin.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy -"

"It's alright," he waved away her apology. "I've been a bastard to you all for ages, there's no reason to believe I wouldn't go on doing it. But you'll trust me, now?"

"Yes."

"'Mione!" Ronald gaped at her and she waved her wand, making his jaw close with a snap. He scowled as he rubbed it, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them, until Lovegood piped up and drew their attention.

"While I'm glad you and Harry aren't at odds anymore, didn't you say you needed Hermione's help, Draco? It sounded urgent," she reminded them all in her calm, direct tone, blue eyes somehow knowing and also guileless.

"Yes, of course. Lovegood has it," he nodded, stepping closer to all of them while fastidiously avoiding Greyback's corpse, which looked far more corpse-like than Harry's had. "The Dark Lord has a snake…"

Granger's eyes widened considerably, and Weasley looked positively elated, both of them speaking at once.

"Is he guarding Nagini?"

"Blimey, Harry was right! It worked!"

Draco appreciated their enthusiasm, but he still had no idea how to complete his task, or what relevance it had to Voldemort's unnatural existence. Lovegood seemed just as confused, though she was perhaps better at concealing it.

"I cast the Killing Curse, but it didn't work," he went on, as if they weren't eyeing each other and babbling excitedly. "Well… It worked on Aunt Bella, I suppose."

"Woah, mate. You killed Bellatrix?" Weasley seemed much more thrilled about the fact than Granger, who was giving Draco a searching look not unlike the ones his own mother had been throwing his way lately.

"She caught Harry and thought it would be brilliant fun to drug him with a lust potion and tie him to my bed, I think she's more than earned it," he scowled at their questioning glances. "You're missing the point. Harry told me I have to kill the snake, he made me promise him, no matter what… Please, Granger. I'm… I'll beg if you want, but can we please get to that part later? I'll take out an add in the bloody  _ Prophet _ , even. Anything you want!"

"Alright, Draco, relax," she said soothingly. "Nagini is a Horcrux, so she can only be killed by a few things -"

"Too bad we didn't bring any of the basilisk fangs up with us from the Chamber of Secrets," Weasley lamented. "And Harry went and gave the Sword to Griphook."

"There's Fiendfyre," Granger said hesitantly. "But that would kill everyone in the room and bring the house down on top of us, most likely." She frowned, eyes narrowed in thought, and Draco waited impatiently, pacing the long length of the dining room table and trying not to remember the last time he'd been in this room when it was full.

"Did you say a Horcrux?" Lovegood piped up. All three turned to her and Granger nodded quickly. "A living Horcrux… How odd…"

"Luna. Focus, please," Weasley warned, earning him a sharp look.

"Well, it seems to me that we need something capable of doing irreparable damage." Her eyes moved to Granger's shoulder, now wrapped in several layers of conjured bandages. "Fiendfyre, basilisk fangs…"

"Werewolf bites. Lovegood, you're a genius!" Draco grinned, turning around to kick over Greyback's corpse. "Now we've just got to figure out how to make a weapon… out of teeth. Or does it need to be saliva?"

"Mmm…" Granger came to stand at his side, while Weasley and Lovegood hung back, both of them looking a bit green. "I think it needs to be both, just to be safe," she said decisively, with a quick glance back to consult with the other girl, who nodded solemnly. 

Draco stood back instinctively when she raised her wand, though he didn't actually think she meant to hurt him at this point, and wound up glad he did. Granger levitated her grisly trophy and spoke another spell, transfiguring it into an ugly-looking spear with teeth at the end, blood still dripping down the elongated bony handle. Her sharp eyes took in Draco, then Luna, then her wandless boyfriend.

"Oi! I'm not holding that!"

Hermione grimaced, but stood her ground. "You're the only one without a wand…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Draco growled, holding his own out to Lovegood. They all stared as if he'd grown fairy wings or announced his enduring love of Madame Puddifoot's, until he walked them through it. "Give Weasley his wand Looney, so the two of you can lurk in the back and keep your prissy little hands clean."

He thought he heard Ronald muttering something with regard to 'prissy little hands' but he chose to ignore it now that he had the answer he needed gripped firmly in his fist. 

"Right," he nodded at the others, "clear me a path, will you?"

  
  


In the end, when Draco stood facing down the darkest wizard of recent memory without even his wand, he hardly had the room to feel frightened. Nagini was dead, the grisly spear Transfigured from the werewolf's jaw piercing her head and pinning it to the hardwood flooring of the parlour, and he could tell from the man's movements, the way he had suddenly begun looking for an exit instead of commanding the wizards around him, that Voldemort was in fear for his life.

It didn't matter if Draco Malfoy lived or died, he had fulfilled his promise and sooner or later the man would meet his end, there were plenty of wizards present in the chaos to claim that victory. He had seen Luna Lovegood cast some kind of Chrysalis Charm on his father, which seemed fitting and droll to Draco, and his mother was unharmed, crouching with Fleur Weasley behind the armchair that held Bellatrix's cooling corpse, both of them guarding each other's backs without hesitation. Dolohov, one of the Dark Lord's nastiest followers, was holed up in a corner, destined to be overwhelmed by Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the other Death Eaters left faced much the same.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noted a flash of red hair kneeling on the floor by Harry's body, and he was grateful at least that it wouldn't be left to decay in whatever ruins the Manor became after the battle was over. Draco looked into the cold, desperately nasty eyes of the Dark Lord himself, and accepted what was to come.

"You foolish traitor! Do you expect mercy from the likes of them, after all that you've done? I placed that Mark upon you, you will never be free of it!" He sneered, making a show of slowly aiming his wand. "You are my creature, and you will die a slave -  _ Aveda - _ "

_ " _ **_EXPELLIARMUS!"_ **


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it ended up being four chapters because I wrote too much smut (not sure that's really possible, but whatevs). But, I'm just drunk enough to post everything tonight and not worry myself about editing, so... If there's errors, forgive me, hopefully it doesn't ruin the enjoyment too much ;)

Draco had closed his eyes when the Dark Lord started speaking, not really interested in the inane drivel the besieged man was spouting, and he flinched at the flash of green, though he felt nothing at all. And that seemed odd, yes, but perhaps there was nothing to feel, it wasn't as if anyone could come back from the Killing Curse and tell whether it had hurt or not… But that hadn't been the right incantation, had it? And the voice…  _ Make sure it took… _

Slowly, Draco opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was the tall, snake-faced form of the Dark Lord crumbling to dust before him, and just when he thought it couldn't get anymore bizarre, he felt familiar arms around him, his mother's relieved, tearful voice filling his ears.

"Oh, my son, my love, you're alive…" He couldn't see very well with Narcissa draped over him like she was, but he couldn't seem to shrug her off either. She clung to him like a drowning woman clinging to a piece of floating debris, and Draco only slowly raised his arms to hug her back.

"Yes," he said softly, swallowing the dryness in his mouth when he finally tried to speak. "We are alive, aren't we?"

Belatedly, he thought to look around, and everywhere he saw only Potter's allies and fallen Death Eaters in the wreckage of the finely-polished wood furnishings and hangings of the Malfoy's parlour. Members of the Order of the Phoenix, including a scowling Sirius Black just stepping through the Floo and already arguing with Severus, the Hogwarts professors going round with healing charms and the Weasley twins keeping several Death Eaters wrapped up like mummies in heavy ropes under their sharp gazes. Standing there amidst the ruins of their house, the two Malfoys appeared almost forgotten, until a stern-eyed Minerva McGonagall came over to point her wand at Draco.

"I have heard some disturbing accusations, Mr. Malfoy, and I think we'd all like for you to put our minds at rest," she said in a voice pitched to be heard around the crowded room. "Several of your brethren have made allusions -"

"Why not just ask me, Professor?"

Draco's heart stopped. Suddenly the sound of that resounding Disarming Charm looped over and over in his mind, and he turned without thought, finding himself enraptured by a pair of very bright green eyes. He could feel the eyes of the rest upon them, felt his mother grab for his wrist to hold him back, but he would not be stopped.

"Harry!"

He took a step, and Potter's impossible smile froze him. Was he really smiling so brilliantly for him, Draco Malfoy?

"Yes?" 

Harry spoke, and everyone paused to watch them. Draco took a deep breath. He certainly did not care for public displays, but he rather imagined that, Gryffindor that he was, Potter would probably care a great deal for such a public show of affection.

So he took another step, and then another, and then he was close enough to reach out, and he did, and then he was crushed in strong, very much alive arms, and Draco realised he was crying.

"You're alive," he whispered, burying his face shamelessly in Potter's shoulder, inhaling his scent like the drug that it was. "I'm alive. It was you, you saved me -"

"Of course I did! What did you think you were doing, facing him without a wand?" His hand cupped the back of Draco's head, crushing him against him, and he held on when Draco made to pull away. "You great bloody moron! He was going to kill you!"

"I know, but I had to kill the snake. It had to be me, I couldn't let Granger or the Weasel do it, or he'd have killed them instead," he tried to explain. "And I gave my wand to Lovegood. You're welcome, by the way."

"What? For what am I supposed to be thanking you for?" Harry drew back finally so Draco could see the tears in his own eyes, making them even more brightly jewel-toned in the dim parlour.

He rolled his eyes and pointed at the stupid, dead snake and Granger's disgusting werewolf-fanged spear. "The bloody snake, Potter! I did what you said, the snake was dead and your army was here, there was no way  _ He  _ was getting away, so it didn't matter if I died -"

"You fucking tosser, Malfoy! I didn't mean for you to sacrifice yourself!"

"Oh, that's rich coming from you, Potter -"

"Are we back to surnames then?"

"You started it!" Draco nearly grabbed his shoulders to shake him, but instead he caught the idiot's stupid gorgeous face in his hands and held his eyes. "Just kiss me, you ridiculous bloody phoenix!"

He did, because of course Potter didn't care who was there to see it, but Draco had to close his eyes and tune out the rest of the crowd, including the various Weasley's snarky commentary and Sirius Black's shocked curses. His mother was sobbing on Fleur's shoulder, and their stunned teachers didn't seem to know where to look.

Harry finally released him only when Luna Lovegood threatened to make a painting of them from her Pensieve memory and dreamily speculated on how many copies would sell if she put on the front page of The Quibbler. The adults all seemed relieved, although Draco stiffened at the sight of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin striding towards him from across the room, just when Harry turned away to speak to Granger.

"Potter," he hissed, reaching back frantically for Harry's hand and breathing a sigh of relief when he found it clasped firmly around his. "What chances do I have of leaving here alive, be honest with me?"

"Relax," Harry said in a soft, private tone in his ear, before nodding at his quasi-parental figures. "Go easy on him, please?"

"Did you actually kill the snake, cousin?" Black asked, not bothering to hide his obvious disbelief.

"He did," Lupin confirmed. "I saw it myself."

Sirius's mouth opened and closed, and then suddenly he was pulling Draco in for a hug, the strong scent of his leather coat rising around him. Draco had barely managed to muster a response when the man released him, patting his shoulder with a friendly chuckle. 

"We'll be seeing a lot more of each other, I imagine," he said with a wink. "Perhaps your mother might consider joining us for dinner one night?"

"I think dinner's a bit much," Draco answered honestly. "You might have better luck with tea."

"Tea it is, then," he laughed, patted Draco's shoulder again, and took himself off to speak with someone else, leaving Draco to face his former teacher.

"That was very resourceful of you," Lupin said somberly, eyeing the grisly spear. Abruptly, he remembered the haggard-looking man was a werewolf, and Draco grimaced apologetically.

"I can't take credit for it all. Using Greyback's… jaw… was Luna's idea, and Granger did the transfiguring. I didn't do anything but stab a captive animal."

"You faced the Dark Lord without a wand, and attacked and killed a ten-foot constrictor that could have eaten you whole." Lupin studied him thoughtfully. "Surprisingly brave and foolhardy for a Slytherin. I can't imagine the Draco Malfoy I had the pleasure of teaching ever performing such a feat."

"I'm not that Draco," he said, shaking his head and looking around at his home full of Death Eaters and his sobbing mother. "I haven't been since…" His eyes dropped down to his wrist, and he tugged at his sleeve, instinctively hiding the Dark Mark. "Father told me it was a great honor, but he knew better. He failed his master, and he let him use me to punish him. I watched that snake  _ eat _ a teacher on my own fucking dinner table."

"I see."

"Really?" Draco scoffed. "I watched all of that and did… nothing. I never spoke out, I kept my head down, I sucked up to that cunt Umbridge… Who knows how long I would have gone on like that? His only mistake was Marking me, I knew it was meant to punish Father and when Severus stopped me from committing murder at his orders... it was over for me. My side was chosen for me, but I didn't have the stomach for it. I knew one day they'd see through me," he shrugged bitterly. "I didn't want to be here, but where would I have run to?"

"I understand, Draco. I daresay Severus understood as well. He helped you, didn't he?"

Draco looked up, where his godfather had gotten his still shaken mother into a free chair and was speaking to her kindly, attempting to talk her into a Draught of Peace, and nodded. "It was his idea, when he found out Aunt Bella was going to teach me Occlumency, to disguise my thoughts. I knew she'd find out that I fancied men, and Potter in particular, so I focussed on… aggressive fantasies. That's where she got the idea to dose him and leave him for me. They thought if I had one night, I could get it out of my system," he snorted. "Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that."

"You care for him very much, don't you?" Lupin's eyes were solemn, but there was a trace of warmth that gave Draco a sliver of hope. Maybe not all of Potter's allies would continue in their outright hatred of him. "Too much for your own good, perhaps," he added wisely.

"I am… inordinately fond of him," he smiled faintly. "I deserved whatever came of me, but he's… Harry's too good, I couldn't let them win. And then he made me promise about that stupid snake and I thought he was dead -"

"I am very much not dead, and thanks again for trusting me about the 'stupid snake,'" Harry rejoined them, his hand once again finding Draco's. His palms were sweaty, but so were Harry's and they both seemed to need the contact, gripping tightly in spite of it. Harry kissed Draco's temple, and he felt his face heat, though Lupin only smiled warmly at them both. 

"I'm glad you're happy, Harry. You certainly deserve it," he said approvingly. "But you'd best say your farewells now, I'm sure Kingsley and the Chief Auror have quite a few questions for Draco -"

"No one is taking Draco anywhere."

Harry's tone was pitched to carry, and several people looked up, Shacklebolt himself even moving quickly towards them, looking apologetic but determined.

"Harry -"

"No! Absolutely not! I almost died, and he almost died, and I am going to spend the night celebrating with my fucking boyfriend, I don't care if you like it or not," he shouted over the startled Auror's attempts to placate him. "Don't you dare try anything, I'll Apparate us back to the bloody Forbidden Forest if I have to."

"Ahem, gentlemen, if I may?" All eyes turned to McGonagall, standing straight and tall and looking them all over as if she were considering sending the Aurors to detention. "Perhaps you could wait a day or two to question Mr. Malfoy, provided you are aware of his location and his wand is kept secured?"

They conferred with one another via meaningful looks and raised eyebrows, but Shacklebolt finally sighed and nodded grudgingly. "I suppose…"

"Good. Ms. Lovegood, do you have Draco's wand?" Luna nodded, drawing the length of hawthorn from her sleeve and holding it out, hilt first. McGonagall's piercing gaze found Weaslebee, who swallowed nervously when she addressed him. "Mr. Weasley -"

"Yes?" He looked as if he were about to plead guilty to any crime if it would only free him of their teacher's measured focus, but he held himself straight even so.

"I propose you hold onto Mr. Malfoy's wand until such time as the Ministry is finished investigating the Malfoy family, if you will?" When Weasley nodded obediently, she turned her gimlet stare on Sirius Black and the redhead sighed with relief, accepting Draco's wand from Luna carefully, as if it might explode in his hands. 

"Are you prepared to allow Mr. Malfoy to reside at your address for the foreseeable future, Sirius?"

"I…" Harry must have shot him some sort of look, because the man just shook his head and crossed his arms, giving Draco a thoughtful, guarded stare. "Do you want to come stay with us, Draco?"

Draco met his gaze as evenly as he could, forcing himself to remain calm and not immediately divert his eyes to the ground at his feet, as he was accustomed to doing with such challenging stares from Voldemort's minions. Whatever dislike Sirius Black held for him, he wasn't a Death Eater and Harry would never stand for any mistreatment. Still…

"I… I don't want to stay here," he admitted giving his mother a quick glance. She frowned slowly, as if not quite following the conversation, but it was enough to make Sirius follow the gist of his thoughts.

"Narcissa," the man said clearly, going to on knee beside the arm of her chair so he could make sure he was understood through the potion Snape had given her. "Would you like to come and stay at Grimmauld for a while, with me and Harry? I'm afraid the Manor isn't a suitable place to live at the moment."

She blinked at him, taking the time to look up at Draco, who nodded reassuringly and stepped closer to take her hand when she reached for him. "I'll be there, too, Mother."

"Oh. Well, I suppose…" Her light, dazed eyes peered around at the wreckage of their home, and all the strangers within it, the bound prisoners sitting under guard and the bizarre amber-colored structure holding Lucius in the center of the parlour rug. "I suppose that would be alright, yes. Thank you, Siri."

If he was startled by the friendliness in her tone or the familiar shortening of his name, he didn't show it. He stood up, nodded to Draco and McGonagall, and began to help Narcissa to her feet and escort her to the Floo.

"Excellent," the stern old Gryffindor proclaimed, turning her attention to Kingsley and the gathered Aurors. "I presume Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, is a secure enough location to satisfy?"

Several of them were still giving Draco suspicious looks, especially those who could see his hand in Potter's, but the Chosen One didn't seem to give them any heed. He squeezed Draco's hand reassuringly, standing resolute beside him as he spoke.

"Fine, then, now that's done," Potter stepped forward to follow Sirius, tugging Draco along in his wake, only pausing to clasp the Weasel's shoulder and let Granger kiss his cheek. "I think I'd like to have a bath and get some sleep. We'll see you in the morning?"

"Not too early," Weasel grinned, draping an arm around Granger's shoulders, and Draco bit back a laugh when she shrugged it off and rolled her eyes, hissing his name sternly. "What? What do you think they're going to do, just sleep all night?"

"No, Ronald, of course not, but I don't need to know the details and I'm sure Harry would appreciate similar consideration from us," she whispered, just loud enough to make Potter grin. Her eyes sparkled with mirth when she looked over them both, and then, shocking him down to his very bones, she stepped up on her toes and used Potter's shoulder as leverage to give Draco a tiny peck on the cheek. "You were very brave, contrary to everything we expected. Take care of him, please?"

He looked to see Potter snickering at his stunned expression, and let his brows narrow, pinching the other boy's ribs painfully. "Let's go before any of these other friends of yours get ideas," he muttered into Potter's ear. 

They waited a moment at the Floo, expecting to hear protests from any of the gathered 'adults,' but it appeared Draco was going to be given the freedom to move in with his… boyfriend… without any further interference. He noted his mother had regarded him with a knowing, fond smile before departing, not objecting at all to the fact that he was holding hands with a boy he was supposed to have 'gotten out of his system,' and Lucius was still pupating in the lovely Chrysalis on the rug, so he couldn't forbid it either.

Draco rather hoped it didn't last too long. He couldn't wait to see Lucius Malfoy emerge from the curse with smooth skin and beautiful butterfly wings, only to find his son was now openly gay and shacking up with Harry Potter, at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. It was quite a clever spell, a Timing Charm layered on top of Lovegood’s Chrysalis, and he rather wanted to commend whoever had cast it. He suspected it was one of the Weasley twins, who winked and gave them both a thumbs up before Harry spoke their coordinates.

  
  
  


Despite Weasly's comments and the charge of expectation between them, Draco had found after they'd both showered and laid down beside each other in Potter's rather lumpy bed, they were too tired for a drawn out scene. At first the novelty of it made them both restless, and they shifted awkwardly until Potter finally sat up, tore off his sleep shirt and prodded Draco until he did the same, then settled himself again and held out an arm.

"Come here," he commanded, and Draco obeyed. With their bare skin pressed together, he could hardly stand the way his cock ached, and he nudged until Harry rolled onto his back, then climbed over him and slipped a hand between them to find Harry's answering hardness beneath his pyjamas. "I really am exhausted, Draco -"

"I know, me too, but you'll sleep better this way, trust me," Draco promised him, leaning down to muffle his gasp as he shoved down his own clothes and let their bodies slide against each other. Harry caught on quickly enough, switching from half-asleep to groaning and writhing, his own hand coming down to wrap around Draco's, holding them together and stroking quickly. He whispered a lubrication spell, and suddenly it was so much better, Draco had to hastily cover his mouth with his free hand, until Harry Summoned his wand and cast Silencing and Warding Charms around them.

"Fuck, yes," he growled when Draco released him. "You're brilliant, Draco."

"Say it again," Draco begged, feeling the beginnings of his climax licking a warm path up his spine as he thrust into their hands. "Say my name, Harry."

"Draco!" He cried out, and then again, "Oh, God, Draco - I want you to fuck me so much -"

"Later," he promised, closing his eyes and focussing on the images that flowed through his mind with Harry's confession. "I swear - I'll take you properly -"

"Yeah, you want to don't you?" Harry opened his eyes, the green so bright and wild, holding Draco's gaze as he gripped his hip with one hand and stroked them wildly, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Tell me - how -"

"However you want Potter, slow or hard, but I promise I'll make it good - you'll be begging me to fuck you all the time -"

"You mean, when you're not -" he growled suddenly, lifting up to kiss and nip Draco's shoulder and the base of his neck, all the way to his ear, "- begging me to fuck you -"

"Harry," Draco actually whined, his movements stuttering as he spilled out over Harry's quick hand, jerking and whispering his name until he felt he couldn't move anymore. "Merlin, you're incredible, my precious phoenix -"

He hadn't even felt Harry come, but the other boy looked just as gone as Draco felt, their softening lengths trapped between them as Draco sprawled bonelessly on top of him. The last thing he heard was Harry muttering a weak cleaning spell, and he fell asleep to the feeling of calloused fingers smoothing over his hair, soothing him into a deep slumber.

  
  
  


Harry awoke feeling better than he had in years, well-rested without a shred of nightmares, eyes opening wide to take in the early-morning sunlight easing into his room at Sirius's house, illuminating his oak dresser and desk, his Hogwarts chest at the end of his bed with his Firebolt 3000 and a sack of wizard candy lying over the top, and filtering like a halo through the silver-white strands of hair belonging to the boy lying beside him.

He sat up suddenly, reaching for his wand, in a panic that this could not be real, that he must be in some kind of dream, because that could not be Draco Malfoy in his bed, sleeping so peacefully beside him after they had defeated Voldemort and both escaped with their lives…

"Harry?" A warm hand caressed his shoulder gently, the posh voice filled with concern, and he shook his head, trying to clear it.

"This can't be real," he said finally, scrubbing his hand over his face and through his bed-fluffed hair. "I - you -" he stared, wild-eyed, as Draco began to laugh, bright and beautiful and so alive Harry wanted to pounce on him and swallow the sound with his lips.

So he did, and Draco kissed him back, and it was impossible, but he knew his imagination well, it wasn't capable of manufacturing this level of happiness. He pulled back, perched atop Draco in the bed, shifting to straddle him and sitting upright.

"I still don't believe you're real," he whispered, cupping the familiar face in his hand, thumb brushing over all the pointy bits.

"Would you like me to prove it?" A small, mischievous smile graced his pink lips, the implication obvious though it made Harry blush. Draco grinned devilishly at that, reaching out grip Harry's arms and bucking his hips up, rolling them over. "You're quite adorable, you know."

"Oh, really? Was it 'adorable' when I sucked your -"

Draco made a  _ tsking _ noise, cutting him off with a palm placed gently over his mouth. "Don't be vulgar, now. I'm quite enjoying your blushing virgin act. Although you won't be in any way once I'm done with you."

Harry swallowed, suddenly just as flushed and nervous as Draco described him, though he had the presence of mind to summon a package from his trunk, a sneaked Christmas gift from Fred and George. He caught it in one hand next to Draco's head, a subtle little white box with only the Wheezes' logo stamped in silver on the side.

"What -"

"Protection," Harry muttered, still blushing. "I know we didn't the first night, but we should probably… Hermione would kill me if she knew."

He waited as Draco took the box, chuckling as he examined the contents. "Oh, this is lovely. Your friends are quite brilliant - Are they marketing this, or are we going to be guinea pigs? I'd rather not spend a week with my cock smelling like pineapple rum, as interesting as that sounds."

"No, they're um… I'm pretty sure Ron got a box too, and you know, Hermione is Hermione, so…" Harry shook his head with a grimace, trying not to focus on the vague images that drew forth. "They're safe."

"And 'self-applying,' I see. Hmm. Well, I suppose I'll let you choose…" He offered the box back to Harry, who nervously thumbed through the contents and selected one, struggling it open with shaky hands, until Draco gently stopped him.

"It's the lubricating one, I thought -"

"Yes, that's fine," Draco nodded. "But just hold that thought a moment and lend me your wand, will you? I believe I promised to do this properly, and there is a bit of preparation involved before we get to that point."

"Right, okay." Harry clutched the little packet in his fist, holding out his wand with the other, although a small part of his brain wondered what the hell he was thinking, giving Malfoy his wand just like that. He took it with only a hint of hesitation, meeting Harry's gaze openly.

"Pay attention to the spells. I cast them last time, but you were too gone, I think," he waited for Harry's nod, then slithered down to kneel between his legs, nudging them further apart to make room as he cast a careful cleansing spell at them both. Another spell had Harry feeling a shocking coolness inside of him and he flinched, wide eyes begging a question of Draco. "It's just to help you relax and loosen your muscles," he explained, handing the wand back. "That atrocious potion would have made it unnecessary, but -"

"It's fine," Harry assured him, rather impatient now the spell had reminded him of what was about to happen. "Please go on, Draco, I want…"

Those silver eyes darkened, the other boy's gaze sharp with a small, almost predatory smile as he looked up at Harry. He maintained eye contact even when he lowered his head to take Harry's half-awake length into his mouth, only closing them when Harry instinctively thrust his hips. He had opened his mouth to apologize, but Draco only groaned around him and sucked him deeper, so Harry abandoned himself to the pure pleasure of it, watching the pink lips spread wide around him. The same image had featured regularly in his fantasies for some time now, but the real thing was so much better, it didn't even bear comparison. Draco's mouth was soft as velvet and so hot it nearly seared Harry's skin, and he never wanted it to stop.

"Fuck, Draco," he moaned, grabbing a fistful of fine flaxen hair to help guide his mouth, Draco's eager noises nearly bringing on an early crest. "God, I'm gonna come, you should stop -"

In answer, Draco lifted his mouth to give Harry another feline smirk, then dipped lower to suck on his sac, something he'd never imagined would feel so good. Harry moaned louder, caught himself mid-way and hastily cast silencing and locking charms at his bedroom door.

"That's right, you don't want the whole house to hear you scream for me," Draco teased, eyes following Harry's every writhing movement. "And I  _ will _ have you screaming for me, Potter."

Harry chuckled and tightened his grip in Draco's hair, firmly urging him back on task. "Promises, promises, Malfoy," he chided teasingly.

The light of challenge that flared in the silver-rimmed dark eyes made his whole body tighten with need, though Harry had no intention of holding back anyway. Draco's tongue trailed down between his legs, and when the wet tip of it traced his loosened hole, Harry really did scream.

The noise only seemed to encourage his lover, as he worked his tongue over and over, tracing and then slowly flicking at his opening, pressing in lightly a few times before delving deeper. Harry clenched his thighs and writhed, his hands unable to reach Draco but digging into the sheets instead.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm going to -"

"Oh yes," Draco encouraged, slipping a hand up to stroke his straining cock. "Yes, come for me, darling, that's a good boy."

"Oh, God…" Whatever the hell was wrong with him, those words provoked something deep within and Harry came so hard, shuddering and thrusting blindly, it took him several moments to gather himself enough to even open his eyes.

Draco was watching when he opened them, his face a mix of awe and desire, utterly foreign to the Draco Malfoy he'd known for the last seven and a half years. His eyes were bright and his mouth open open slightly, and when Harry focussed on him he grinned smugly, but even that was different, warmer and far more endearing than his usual expression.

"Alright, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'll say." He looked relieved and Harry laughed. "What did you think I wouldn't like it?"

He shrugged self-consciously, mouth turning up at the corners as if trying not to smile. "How should I know what you like? It's not as though we're all that well acquainted."

"Oh, but we are," Harry insisted at Draco's dubious look. "C'mon, Draco. I know you were just as aware of me as I was of you. I bet you even know how I take my tea."

"Yes, you used to murder it with cream and sugar until fifth year - I always wondered what happened to make you turn against cream -" he shook his head, a trace of blush pinking his pale cheeks.

"Umbridge tried to slip me Veritaserum," he shrugged. "I can't believe you paid that much attention, given how busy you were sticking your nose up her fat arse -"

"No, no, enough of that," Draco said sternly, pinching Harry's thigh. "You'll put me off of you for the rest of the day.  _ Merlin _ , she was a cow, wasn't she? I had orders, you know, to secure her graces, and I did always enjoy seeing you provoked, but none of us could stand her either."

"You certainly made a good show of pretending," Harry grumbled, wondering how they had even gotten on the subject. 

"Yes, we were Slytherins and she offered us special privileges, surely you can see how that works out. It's a simple calculation, really, although I think most of us paid for it when it came time for the Defense practical," he gave Harry a thoughtful look. "How did you manage it, anyway? I heard even Longbottom passed the OWLs in that subject."

Harry grinned, but something told him it would be worth it to hold the secret just a little longer, so he swallowed the answer on the tip of his tongue and redirected them instead. "Ask me again later, unless you've decided against fucking me for the time being?"

"Heavens, no," Draco rolled his eyes, glancing down to where Harry was spread beneath him, nibbling his bottom lip thoughtfully as he drew his hand down to brush against where his tongue had left Harry wet and relaxed. "If you're absolutely sure -"

"Yes, for fuck's sake, Draco, please! Put your fingers in me or something, I need to know -" he gasped as Draco did just that, a warm, lubricated digit sliding up inside of him almost effortlessly. Harry bit his own lip and closed his eyes, though he couldn't help the stuttered, quiet whine that escaped his throat. "Oh, God…"

"Mmm, we've been through this, my name is Draco," the prat teased, as if he didn't have his whole finger deep inside Harry, twisting and turning and sliding in and out with increasing speed. "Go on, scream it if you must."

"Fuck! More, Draco, please…" It wasn't all that different from doing it himself, except Draco's fingers were longer and from his position he could press in far deeper. Which he did, as Harry moaned and lifted his body to rock downwards, eagerly awaiting more. Usually when he did it to himself it took some time for him to really relax and for it to begin to feel good, but after Draco's spell and his shattering climax, he was already enjoying the feeling of being filled. He opened his eyes, catching Draco in the act of watching, mesmerized by the sight of his finger breaching Harry's arse.

"More," he insisted again, drawing Draco's attention. "It's good, I swear…"

"If I'd known you'd be such a slut, I'd have tried to get you in bed a lot sooner," the bastard muttered, meeting his eyes with a more familiar Malfoy-esque smirk. Harry couldn't even be angry at the taunt, it was so true, he wanted Malfoy like nothing else he'd ever coveted, and the sensations he could evoke with his lips and tongue weren't limited to the physical approach.

"Yes," he agreed almost mindlessly as Draco sunk another finger into him, twisting and pressing deep, slowly rubbing back and forth inside of Harry until he hit just the right place to make him cry out. "I'll be your slut, Malfoy, just fuck me already!"

"Will you?" Draco crawled quickly back up his body, reaching for the packet held tightly in Harry's fist. "Get on your hands and knees for me," he leaned down for a thorough kiss, ensuring Harry of his affection. "It's better, for your first time."

Harry rearranged himself quickly, glancing behind him to watch Draco open and apply the condom, holding in a laugh at his grimace as he put it in place and watched it roll itself down. He looked surprised to find it worked without some horrifying side effect, though he reacted quickly enough, one hand resting steadily on Harry's hip while he positioned himself with the other.

"Ready?"

"As ever," Harry nodded, bracing his palms on the bed and forcing himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath, exhaling slowly as Draco pressed into him. It was almost too much at first, but he wanted it so badly, he dug in his fingers and forced himself to bear it.

"Just breathe," Draco soothed, pausing once his head had fully breached, allowing a moment for Harry to shift and make himself more comfortable. He leaned down to place soft, open-mouthed kisses down Harry's spine, and it helped, spreading a warmth through his body that made everything start to feel good. Better than good, actually.

Harry shuddered, muscles tensing and releasing, his eyes sliding closed as the intrusive feeling became more and more pleasurable.

"More," he heard himself growl, dropping his head between his arms and lifting himself to push back, taking Draco in slowly, one delicious inch at a time. The lubricant helped immensely, easing the slide so he filled Harry almost effortlessly. "Oh, fuck!"

"Harry?" Draco's hand caressed his waist and hip, the cool touch of his palm lighting up Harry's bare skin. "Alright?"

"Yes," he nodded, craning his neck to meet the worried silver eyes over his shoulder. "You can move, I think it's okay."

He did, beginning with a gentle rocking that kept him in deep, and it hit that part that made Harry see stars and push back mindlessly. "Yes, yes, fuck! Harder, I need -"

Words failed him when Draco suddenly drew back and slammed into him, evoking a startled, uncontrolled moan from Harry. It was almost embarrassingly loud and wanton, but at that very moment, he didn't care, he just knew that he loved this and he wanted more - so much more!

"Don't stop, please don't stop," he begged mindlessly, dropping to his elbows when his body was too tremulous to hold him up.

"Merlin, Potter! Are you sure you're alright?" 

"God, yes!" 

Draco hissed a stream of curses, his hands sliding upwards over Harry's back, pushing down on his shoulders, forcing him to fold his arms beneath and turn his head against the pillows. It wasn't a position he'd ever imagined being in, but it felt amazing, he felt possessed, absolutely owned by Draco and he adored it.

They moved together with a reckless, wild need, Draco bracing his hands beside Harry's head as he slammed himself in and out, pounding at just the right angle until Harry was growling out a climax that came upon him completely by surprise. Draco hadn't even touched his prick and he was jerking and taut, thrusting into the bed unconsciously as he came untouched.

"Fuck, fuck!" He was barely aware of Draco hissing above him, but he felt him bow his head to press his damp forehead against Harry's back. He thrust weakly once or twice, his hot release spilling inside of Harry and leaking out between his thighs. 

Harry was boneless beneath Draco's weight as they both dropped to the bed, sliding apart as Draco's softened cock fell out of his body. They were silent for a moment, both breathless and spent, though Draco kept placing mindless little kisses all over his back and shoulders.

"Merlin," he breathed against Harry's neck.

"Yeah."

Harry laughed softly, elbowing Draco off of him. He sprawled on his back, and Harry draped one arm around him, snuggling his face into the bony, pale shoulder. "That was brilliant," he murmured, kissing his lover's shoulder. "Really."

"Because you have so much experience to compare it to," Draco's eyes rolled beneath his half-closed lids, but he was smiling.

"And you do?"

"Potter…" Draco sighed. 

"Oh, come on! I'm not… I'm not going to judge, I just -"

"Marcus Flint," he interrupted in a low, emotionless voice. "He's a prick, as if you didn't already know. He… I bled, and it was awful. That was fifth year, and I was too scared to let anyone else fuck me. So I fucked Parkinson once, hoping maybe I wasn't bent as a drain pipe, and it was absolutely humiliating. She was a brick about it, surprisingly enough… I ought to owl her soon… But it's just been them and… Zabini and I, ah... did things with hands and mouths a few times at the start of the year, before his family fled the country."

Harry was quiet for minute, just trying to process it all, but he noticed Draco's hands fidgeting nervously, one twisting the sheet and the other reaching over to finger comb Harry's hair.

"This is the part where you share your past," he prompted in a tone just a touch sly of petulant.

"Give me a minute, will you?" Harry chuckled. "I don't know if you'd call it dating, but Cho Chang was my first kiss. That ended almost before it began. Between her and Ginny, I erm…" he hesitated, and Draco raised his head, meeting Harry's gaze expectantly. "I stayed in the twins' room one Christmas and we… experimented, I guess. It was fun, but not anything meant to last, and Ron doesn't know so please don't say anything! Other than that, yeah, just… Ginny and I did some things, but she wanted more and I wanted to wait until after everything was over, so… she decided to fuck Dean Thomas instead." Draco raised a brow at that and Harry shrugged. He supposed he should have been more upset, but honestly at the time he'd had so much weighing on him already, what he felt most was relief. "We're still friends, though I'm not sure Ron's entirely forgiven her."

"Well, it's her loss and my gain." Draco paused thoughtfully to trace the indentation of the scar on his forehead. "Just how many Weasleys have you traded favors with anyway?"

Harry groaned. He knew Draco would fixate on that part, to be truthful it had bothered him a bit as well, even when he found out Ginny knew and didn't mind. "Three," he grumbled. "I also kissed Hermione once and there might have been more, but I fell asleep -"

"Harry, I assumed you and Granger had fucked at least once, just for the experience," Draco laughed. "But you're being awfully obtuse. How far had you actually gotten before we -"

"I've had a blow job a couple of times, and I'm apparently alright with my mouth on either or, though I'll admit pricks are a lot simpler. Is that explicit enough for you?"

"You didn't have to be vulgar."

"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to detail sex acts without being what you consider vulgar," Harry protested. "I wasn't raised by Narcissa Malfoy, you know."

"That's fair, I suppose. I'm sure your uncultured Muggles never spoke to you of it." Draco's fingers continued gently combing through his hair, his fine nails sinking in to scratch Harry's scalp, and he absolutely fucking melted, unable to focus his attention on anything but that.

Harry practically whimpered, his head rolling on Draco's shoulder, urging him to move his ministrations up and down and side to side while Harry writhed half on top of him.

"Stop that, you're being obscene," he chided, obediently moving his gentle scratches to the places that Harry liked best.

"You like it."

"Yes, that's exactly the problem. Salazar, you're vocal."

Harry stilled, shifting up on his elbow so he could see Draco's face, uncertain if it was a complaint or a compliment. "So?"

"So? If you keep moaning like a whore, you're liable to get fucked like one." His pale eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth, and he shut it quickly, watching Harry as if he were a lit firework about to pop off. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have -"

"I don't mind," Harry said firmly. "Really, it's…" He realised he was staring at Draco's thinly-pressed lips, and his tongue darted out on instinct, wetting his own a second before he descended. Draco gasped into his mouth, and his hands flew to grip the back of Harry's head and eventually slide down his back, boldly cupping his arse.

When they broke apart, they were both panting and eyeing each other like circling predators. Harry was trying to decide if he wanted to fuck Draco, or if he wanted Draco inside of him again, both options seeming equally on offer.

"Oh, Harry," Draco dropped his hand from Harry's face to wrap around his quickly-swelling cock, his eyes visibly darkening. "Do you want to be my whore?"

"Yes, but only if you'll be mine."

"Obviously."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably going to be a sequel to this at some point, so keep an eye out I guess, although I have a lot of WIPs to get done first. 
> 
> Also I'm American, I did the best I could, but I didn't have a Brit to beta anything, so I apologise if the dialogue is a little off.

Draco awoke several hours later to the unmistakable sound of his father shouting. It was a sound that evoked a primal part of him, from the days of his youth when he had hidden himself away at the slightest hint of Lucius' wrath, and for a brief few seconds he panicked, flinching and whimpering, grabbing at his pillow like a shield. He fished beneath it for his wand, growing increasingly frantic and cursing himself for a fool. The room around him was unfamiliar at first, cast in late morning sunlight filtering in through a dingy window to his right, and his eyes scanned over the nearby table and the floor, where his shoes and pants lay, more careless than his usual routine, but there was no wand.

Draco had started to rise when a strong arm slipped around him and dragged him back, and he breathed out in sudden relief as it all came back to him, going almost boneless. 

"Harry," he whispered, a plea and a caress in two short syllables. He found the hand splayed across his chest and laid his own over it, intertwining the thick fingers with his own.

"You don't have to get up. Sirius will send him off."

Draco pressed himself backwards and Harry's arm tightened, his nose buried in Draco's hair, breathing slow and steady. He matched his breath with the man beside him, and eventually his heart stopped pounding. When he felt more in mastery of himself, Draco rolled to face Harry and found himself showered in warm, silent kisses. 

It was incredible how naturally Harry could comfort him, without speaking more than a few words, as if they were old friends or long-term lovers. But he supposed they were in a way. If you watched someone as closely as the two of them had watched each other for nearly seven years, you got to know them whether you meant to or not.

He turned his head, catching a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and Harry smiled, lifting his hand to hold Draco's face.

"You alright?"

"I'm marvelous. Spectacular, really." He laughed, more loudly than he meant to, startling himself. All these years he'd tried to hide his inclinations and his overwhelming attraction to Potter, and now that his father undoubtedly knew the truth, he couldn't care less. "I adore you, you know," he said when Harry raised an eyebrow at his sudden laugh. "I don't care anymore if my parents approve of who I choose to love."

"You - Draco." Emerald eyes wide as saucers held his. "You mean that? You love me?"

"You don't have to -"

"I love you too, and I'll shout it from the rooftop if I want. I dare you to stop me." Harry sat up, his holly wand in hand, and Draco moved to sit facing him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. But I'll probably be a bit of a girl about it later, just so you're prepared," he chuckled at Harry's frown. "Don't worry, I'd guess you've got about half a day before I break down in tears and start making demands."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not, but either way, you're not going to scare me away," he answered with a stern look. Then he raised his wand with a muttered  _ Accio _ that Draco didn't quite catch.

The top of his trunk popped open and a pair of weird, fleshy long things flew into his hands, which Draco eyed in a mix of horror and fascination. He had a feeling these were another oddity courtesy of the Weasley twins.

"Extendable ears," Harry explained, handing him one and climbing out of bed. "You don't have to, but I for one want to hear this."

Draco took hold of the strange, limp stretch of skin dubiously, holding it up with his thumb and forefinger and trying not to touch any more of it than he had to. He followed Harry to the door, waited while he unwarded and unlocked it, and they crept carefully down the hall to the stairs.

"I'll report you to the Ministry -" Lucius shouted, clear enough for them to hear. Harry gestured with his own device, showing Draco how to place the fleshy nub at the end into his ear, and they hunched over side by side, listening. It was a weird sensation to feel his hearing suddenly increased, but he got over it quickly as the conversation was fascinating.

"Go ahead," Sirius answered calmly, a striking counterpoint to Lucius' display of temper.

"This is impossible! You've Imperiused them, you and that meddlesome Potter brat!"

"I have not been ensorcelled, Lucius, I assure you. Be reasonable, please! We've already lost so much," his mother sounded as if she'd been crying, although she was hiding it well. Draco and his mother had always been able to read each other much better than his father. "Let's not forget that Sirius has taken responsibility for both myself and Draco, a kindness we do not deserve in the slightest. Were it not for him, we would both be in a Ministry holding cell."

"Oh, yes, such a hero he is! What happened that night in the Department of Mysteries when Bella had you cornered, Black? Such a  _ heroic _ act, shouting for help from your teenage godson! You're lucky Rookwood was in the way, or it would have all ended differently." 

"Yeah, because you did your job perfectly, didn't you?" Harry muttered unexpectedly, his tone clearly sarcastic. "I'm sure your lord was just thrilled when you told him how you had the prophecy in hand and fucking dropped it."

Draco blinked, pulling the device away from his ear to look at Harry, who was still obliviously caught up in the argument going on two floors below. Of course.  _ Of course _ , his father had lied to him. He shouldn't even be surprised, but it was as if the last tiny bit of space in his heart dedicated to Lucius Malfoy had finally collapsed.

Without thinking, Draco stood and went to the stairs, taking them two at a time, and nevermind that he was wearing only pyjamas with no pants beneath and an unbuttoned shirt he'd thrown on before leaving the room that was most likely Potter's. He heard his name hissed behind him, but he ignored it, though it was bolstering to hear the heavy steps clomping down behind him.

He didn't even have a wand (again) but when he stumbled into the hall where Sirius and Narcissa were facing down a fuming Lucius, he noted his father didn't have one either. Not to mention he looked like a Muggle Halloween reveler, with bright orange and yellow butterfly wings and a pair of shimmering black antennas bouncing from under his wildly flying hair.

Draco heard a chuckle from Harry, and he fought hard to force down the smile that tried to take over his lips. "Father," he said in a measured tone. "I see you've pupated successfully."

A sharp choking noise from the direction of the kitchen made him turn his head, seeing Harry's normally terrifying godfather covering his mouth with his fist and coughing in a fake attempt to hide what Draco was sure was a smile. Well, at least his snark had provided Sirius Black with a few laughs, even if the man still hated him.

"Draco, what is this foolishness? I thought we had an understanding, there was to be no more of these unnatural behaviors after your promised outlet -"

"Lucius, please, this is not the way," his mother pleaded, standing aloof, several feet away from her husband wrapped in a vintage black dressing gown with her hair in an uncharacteristically sleep-mused braid over one shoulder. She gave Draco a pleading look as well, sensing his hardened heart with the intuition of all caring mothers. "This is not a conversation to have in company, surely you can agree to that much, Draco, my dear."

But Draco was already shaking his head, glancing once again to the form of his cousin, leaning in the kitchen doorway with a relaxed, slightly bored air that belied his curious stares. Harry's footsteps sounded behind him, stepping off of the stairs just as Draco walked towards his father.

"Anything you have to say to me can be said here," he insisted, crossing his arms and doing his best to imitate Black's poised indifference. "This is to be my home for the immediate future, as I'm sure you've been told."

"Just because Black and Potter have agreed to hold you under house arrest on their property does not make it your home," Lucius' eyes flicked briefly over his shoulder, narrowing now doubt at the sight of a shirtless, pyjama-clad Harry Potter coming up so quickly on Draco's heels. His lips turned downward in a cruel sneer. "Can it be there is more to it than that? Do tell me you have not taken up residence here as Potter's bed warmer, Draco. You are a Malfoy - I did not raise you to be a half-blood's whore -"

Draco wasn't aware of his arm moving until he felt his knuckles slam into his father's jaw, sending his head flying back with a strength that had him staggering backwards. Fumbling for purchase along the wall, Lucius backed into what appeared to be a severed troll leg used as a stand for some ancient, moth-eaten umbrellas, toppling the whole thing over and tripping over it in such an ungainly display, even Narcissa looked to be concealing a smile.

"Merlin and Morganna, Malfoy!" Sirius slowly moved to help him, casually waving his wand to right the umbrellas and their hideous container, then stooping to offer Lucius a hand. "It's unlike you to be lost in your cups this early in the day."

Lucius snatched his hand away as soon as he regained his feet, even going to the lengths of wiping his palm on his immaculate gray robes.

"I am not intoxicated, I assure you!" His lip had split where his teeth nicked it from Draco's punch, and he wiped at it, staring at the blood on his hand with a slowly boiling fury. He lifted his head to scowl at his son, an expression that had once struck terror into Draco's very bones, but now seemed almost pathetic. "How dare you raise your fist to me!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you prefer a wand? I'm sure I could borrow Harry's," Draco replied, calm as a still pond, only turning slightly when he felt Harry's light touch on the small of his back.

"If you want," Harry shrugged. "But I don't think it'd be fair, your father clearly doesn't have his either."

Lucius sneered. "If you think I need a wand to keep you in line, you've not been listening, Draco. Do you really wish to risk disinheritance for your little childhood crush?"

"I'd still be gay without Harry, Father," Draco laughed. "Unfortunately it doesn't just go away after one night's indulgence."

"You could still marry - arrangements can be made - the Malfoy Estate needs an heir, it's your duty -" Lucius seemed to be struggling to find the words, faced with four people who had no interest in hearing him out. "Draco, they've poisoned you, please, my son." He fumbled in his robes, withdrawing a vial of what Draco recognized as Bilby's Universal Antidote. "Please, just -"

"Why would I ever take a potion from you?" Draco glared, confrontation in his eyes as he met his father's wide eyes. The last potion he'd swallowed had destroyed every ounce of trust he had in his father, after he'd blindly and obediently submitted to take the Dark Mark under a mixed Draught of Peace and Morphon's Suggestibility Serum. He yanked the shirt he was wearing - which he could see now was definitely Harry's, Draco didn't own a single thing in that shade of burgundy - up his left arm and held up his wrist.

"Do you remember this night? I do. I felt like an Inferi, just stumbling around, repeating whatever I was told. You poisoned me to make me do your bidding, and then you handed me over to  _ him _ !" He had advanced without meaning to, shoving his tattooed arm under his father's nose. He wanted to spit in his face, and it was only the presence of his mother, her gasp of shock, that stopped him. "You told me it was a 'great honor' and I trusted you! I trusted you, and you let that madman take over our home! You let him use me to punish you, giving me a task you knew was  _ impossible _ . What did you think would happen to me, Father? Did you honestly think I would succeed in murdering Albus Dumbledore?"

"I -"

" _ Lucius! _ "

They both turned to see his mother's bright blue eyes, the same color as her sister and Sirius, filled with tears, her lips trembling in horror. She laid a shaking hand on Draco's arm, gently drawing the tips of her fingers over the horrible black design, the stamp of the Dark Lord that he would wear forever. A teardrop fell onto it and she wiped it away quickly, sniffing hard and lifting her head to face his father, her fingers twining through Draco's with unexpected strength.

He hadn't realised they'd let her keep her wand, but he should have expected she would manage it, she was still a Slytherin, sometimes more cunning than Draco or Lucius or even her mad little sister. Lucius eyed the tip pointed at his neck in disbelief.

"You promised me. When all of this started - when you knew  _ he _ was back - you promised that Draco would be spared. That was our primary objective. To keep our child safe. Surely you remember that?" She jabbed with the wand, and Lucius took a step back, a familiar look coming over his face that Draco thought of as his 'sycophant simper.' To see him adopt it when facing Narcissa was almost absurd.

"You  _ drugged _ our  _ child _ and sold his allegiance to that maniac! Why, Lucius? Why would you -"

"I had no choice!" He shouted suddenly, his anguished voice loud enough to rattle the chandeliers. "I wasn't going back there, I had to find a way…" In desperation, he turned to the one person in the room least likely to offer him sympathy. "Sirius knows, surely. Anything was better than going back to Azkaban -"

"Anything?" Sirius again maintained a look of curious indifference. "There are a lot of things I would do to avoid going back there, some of them less ethical than others, but… Selling out a loved one? A  _ child? _ If the only choice for me had been to turn Harry over to Voldemort or return to Azkaban, I'd Apparate there myself in a heartbeat."

His voice was low and cold, and it sounded perfectly calm, but there was an edge of danger there that reminded Draco of his mad aunt, just a bit. They all had a touch of it, the Blacks, and sometimes he wondered if he had it too, if perhaps that's why he'd fixated on Potter, why he let his pride and temper rule him when the intelligent choice would have been to keep silent and wait in the background. Draco glanced back at his mother, catching her giving Sirius a strangely familiar look, before the man pushed away from the doorway and casually drew his own wand.

"If I were you, I'd leave, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said clearly from Draco's right, his hand still resting supportively on Draco's back. Of them all, he was the most unaffected, although that in itself was enough of an insult to a man like Lucius. Regardless of his defeat of the Dark Lord, the fact that a seventeen-year-old boy was patently unbothered by any of Lucius postering, even to the point of politely suggesting he take the proffered out, probably had the elder Malfoy's blood boiling. 

But there was nothing he could do but flutter his ridiculous butterfly wings, as he didn't even have a wand, and Salazar himself only knew what kind of wards and nasty enchantments were woven into the Black Estate to defend its occupants from unwanted guests. Lucius' mouth opened once or twice, and then he backed away, fumbling slightly for the door handle before letting himself out.

"You'll regret this. I will cut you both off - you'll be disinherited," he glared at Draco, then turned to speak to Narcissa in a truly nasty tone. "You will hear from my solicitor."

"I look forward to it," she snapped back.

The door opened and slammed shut, all of the multitude of locks and bolts magically turning and sliding home the second it closed, providing an emphatic ending to the confrontation. Draco felt a hysterical laugh bubbling in his chest, and it was only his mother's quick squeeze of his hand that quieted it. At least he still had her, and Potter, and he'd expected to die for a long time now, so he really didn't need anything else.

"Well." Sirius surveyed them all with a raised brow. "Breakfast?"

"It can hardly be called breakfast at this hour," Narcissa corrected.

"Alright. Brunch then? Or tea? I know you like Kreacher's tea, Cissy."

To his surprise, Draco's mother smiled, kissing his cheek lightly before releasing his hand and smiling warmly at her cousin, who led the way into the kitchen, carelessly whistling as if the whole scene had amused him. Harry's hand pressed more firmly against Draco's back, guiding him to follow, which he did with only a moment's pause.

"You were brilliant, you know," he whispered, stopping Draco on the stairs to sneak in a few quick kisses.

"I was, wasn't I?"

  
  
  


After several days spent giving the longest interviews of his life, answering the questions put to him by Kingsley Shacklebolt and what seemed to be every investigator in the entire British Auror Service, Draco had been left to sleep a mere four hours in the musty holding cells before his final sentencing. His solicitor, a proud young Muggleborn who had introduced herself as Kat, wore a flag-shaped pink, purple and blue pin on her collar and had taken his case at the recommendation of Hermione Granger, had proved to be brilliant, but even she couldn't get him cleared of all charges. Not when he was wearing the Dark Lord's brand on his skin for all the world to see.

He was awake and as well put-together as he could manage without his wand or a mirror when the lively voice of his cousin sounded outside the cell, just before the hidden door revealed itself and the locks clicked open. Nymphadora Tonks observed him with her hands on her hips, hair a sober dark blue and eyes pale silver, perhaps in unintended sympathy.

"Ready to face the gallows then, Malfoy?"

"Hopefully not that," he said without much humor, rising to his feet. He spared a glance around as she led him through the underground of the Ministry, and though he didn't say anything, Tonks was a perceptive woman.

"They wouldn't let him in, even in the gallery. Your solicitor pleaded for a closed hearing, and unfortunately, that means everyone," she explained sympathetically. "Not that he didn't try, you know Harry -"

"I hope he didn't make a scene," Draco sighed. He had told himself this was likely to happen after they'd received word that the Wizengamot had barred Harry from testifying on his behalf, but he couldn't help feeling his heart thump heavily.

"In public? No, you can thank Hermione and Katrina for that, but, well… I don't think Kingsley is going to be coming around for Sunday at the Burrow for a while." 

At the mention of his lawyer, Draco felt a moment's relief, remembering her insistence that there were plenty of other witnesses she could call besides his boyfriend, some of whom might be even more persuasive. He couldn't imagine anyone with half the clout of the Chosen One being willing to speak on his behalf, but she had sounded incredibly confident.

She still seemed confident as they came around a corner and into view of the benches outside the courtroom, where Katrina Garcia was sitting in her crisp dark blue robes, coppery auburn hair wound in a long braid all the way around her head and brightly-colored pin in place. Draco's eyes took in her tight smile, but had already darted to the other redheaded woman sitting beside her, his mouth parting slightly in shock.

"Blimey, Malfoy, you look like a drowned swan," Ginny Weasley covered her snicker politely behind her hand, standing beside Kat to adjust her weird mix of a Muggle skirt, light blouse and fitted short robe, in a yellow-gold that looked striking with her ginger waves and brought much-needed warmth to the cold marble around them.

Draco swallowed, nodding a greeting to his solicitor before he faced and addressed her as politely as possible. They had shared one lunch and two awkward Sunday dinners around the same table, but given the number of people involved and his own tendency to speak quietly only when directly spoken to, he didn't feel much closeness with the youngest Weasley.

"Ginevra. I've no idea why you've chosen to be here, but -"

"I spent quite a bit of time speaking to your schoolmates, friends and family during the times when the Aurors were processing your physical evidence," his solicitor said, interrupting as she often did in her haste for efficiency. "Imagine my surprise when every Weasley I spoke to volunteered to testify on your behalf, despite the long-term quarrels between your families."

"Every Weasley?" Draco blinked, staring wide-eyed when Ginevra nodded. 

"Well," he stuttered, feeling quite taken aback and completely blank on how to respond to that knowledge. "I… I certainly don't deserve your attention. Or assistance," he added meeting the girl's sharp eyes.

"Sure you do," she smiled again, such an easy expression for someone who had nearly killed him with a slicing hex. 

"Draco, you faced the Dark Lord without a wand and killed his snake," Tonks reminded him. "We all saw it. I was there that day too, you know."

Draco shrugged. "I didn't do it for any of you, just Harry," he admitted, dropping his gaze to his shoes and eyeing the creases and scuffs where the dragonhide needed polished. "And because I wanted that maniac to get his comeuppance."

"One would think that's enough," Garcia said quietly, drawing his attention. She cast an analytical look over his rumpled simple Muggle suit, nodded to herself, then tapped her wand to his shoulder, smoothing out the creases and letting his hair fall more cleanly over his shoulders. 

"He certainly looks a bit worn, doesn't he?" She asked, sharing a look with Ginevra that Draco did not even pretend to understand. 

"I think the word is more like 'petrified,' honestly," she retorted with a faint smirk.

"Good. That's just how the Wizengamot likes them."

Before Draco could take in this bizarre statement, the door across from them opened, an Auror Draco didn't know stepping out to let them in. He followed behind his solicitor, with his hands still bound in cuffs that severed him from his magic and Tonks and the other Auror behind him with their wands out.

Draco went obediently to the chair in the center of the room, though he had to force himself to sit still when the chains activated, binding him to it like heavy, cold snakes. Sweat broke out on his skin, even in the chill of the underground room, and he felt as if he would suffocate, every breath forces and shallow. He barely heard the Wizengamot announced as they took their seats, and then the clerk was reading the name of the Ministry prosecutor, Gawain Robards, and Madeleine Katrina Garcia, who took her place as his lawyer somewhere behind him.

He almost bit his tongue when he realized Kingsley Shacklebolt was there in front of him on the panel, and what's more he'd clearly asked a question that Draco could not for the life of him parse. He managed a stuttered, "I'm sorry?" and the wizards and witches in the box whispered and tutted.

"Please pay attention, Mr. Malfoy, not everyone here will be merciful enough to repeat their questions," the imposing man chided. 

"You've only asked his name, surely he can manage that!" One particularly thin old crone muttered, looking away at Shacklebolt's scowl.

"The accused will tell us his name for the record, please," he repeated after meeting Draco's eyes. 

"Dray -" his voice cracked and he coughed to clear it. "Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"Son of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy?" One of the others jumped in, a very small man who might have had some Goblin in him like Professor Flitwick. He peered at Draco through comically-large spectacles. "How do you feel about your parents suing each other for divorce?"

He knew his mother would hate hearing her private affairs gossiped about, and his response would certainly be cause for gossip. But it would be regardless of what he said, and Garcia had stressed over and over that the truth was his best ally.

"Relieved, to be quite honest," he said, still focused on Kingsley's stern but nonjudgmental dark eyes. For some reason he felt more comfortable knowing the man was in charge of his trial, as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, not only had he been present for Draco's face off against the Dark Lord, he was as trustworthy a judge as Draco was going to get.

"What do you mean 'relieved?' What child wishes for their family to be torn apart?" The same muttering witch from earlier grumped at him.

Draco watched Kingsley's calm flicker, a mild expression of irritation sneaking across his face before he masked it again, and it gave him the strength to answer.

"My father tore it apart himself when he chose to invite that mad man into our house, and slip a Calming Draught and Morphon's Serum into my drink before he presented me to get Marked," he sneered, giving voice to his anger for just this moment.

Apparently it was the right answer, as the Wizengamot chittered and clucked like a bunch of startled hens, while Shacklebolt offered him a look that might have been approval. The tiny man on his right rubbed his spectacles on his robes while he asked the next question, and Draco could feel the other witches and wizards leaning in to hear it.

"Are you saying you took the Dark Mark unwillingly? Recall, we have the testimonies of quite a few of your fellows, as well as your mother's," he reminded Draco.

"Not precisely." Draco chewed his lip, thinking quickly. "But there was a lot of pressure to… to man up, as it were, and then Father asked if I needed help coming to the right answer and I… I did, but I didn't. I suppose… I suppose I wanted the status, the prestige of it. I knew Aunt Bella and the others would congratulate me, give me more respect, and at school it would… It would give me some preferential benefits from the rest of the Slytherins, obviously. But I knew Potter, too, have done for half our lives now, and I thought it was pretty obvious he was going to win in the end."

"So you were resigned to it," another witch in a black turban pinned with a glittering blue sapphire spoke up. "Or rather, you didn't fight against it, because you felt it was inevitable."

"Yes."

"Don't put words in his mouth, Lydia. He's already got a solicitor," the older witch to her left warned. "Speaking of which… I am told Miss Garcia does have witnesses to collaborate Mr. Malfoy's story, if she would like to begin."

Draco sat, still and silent and clammy with sweat and fear, while Severus Snape detailed the very potions he had provided to Draco's father on the night of his marking. Fearing his assessment would be biased, Garcia had come up with her own Potions expert, who explained the effects of the two substances and speculated on how the firewhiskey Lucius had given him to drink would increase their strengths. The prosecution had no witnesses to summon, but Draco was made to wait outside, pacing the length of the hall to stretch his legs, while they examined Pensieve evidence.

After that, Draco was questioned about the various transgressions he'd committed in his attempts to assassinate Dumbledore, and again Snape was called to testify, this time by the prosecution. Following that, Garcia questioned Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco's mother, driving home the closeness between them, and the threats and danger facing her back at the Manor should Draco give up his tasks.

To each one she posed the final question, "Do you believe Draco Malfoy to be capable of such a cold-blooded murder?"

Of course his mother denied it, but he was surprised to see Pansy and even Zabini hesitate.

"Look, I don't pretend he's the nicest person in the world," Zabini drawled, appearing bored even though the various witches and one wizard appeared glued to his charming smile. "But you've got to be straight mental to murder a bloody teacher, and Draco's not like that. He thinks we can't see through him, but it's true. He was right terrified of that aunt of his though, not to mention - well -  _ Him _ ."

They broke early that day to review more Pensieve evidence, and Draco was so exhausted, he fell onto his cot and into a restless slumber, awakening again to the sound of voices outside his cell. He scrubbed at his eyes, clearing them of grit and tears from vaguely haunting dreams, while an excited voice made him cough and stare up from his cot in confusion.

"You look like a bloody Inferi, mate. Did they even feed you?"

"Weasley? What in Salazar's name -" He stared at the fresh apple being shoved into his hand from the gangly orange brute. "Did you just bring me food?"

"It's only an apple," Weasley shrugged. He was wearing Auror training robes, Draco noticed, pressed and washed cleaner than he'd ever seen anything else the man wear.

"Are you here to walk me down, then? What happened to Nymphadora?"

"She's off today. Four tens, Sunday through Wednesday means she's got three days off with the baby," he explained needlessly.

"So they sent you?" Draco cast a disbelieving scowl over his general state of… Weasleyness… and the orangutan grinned.

"Expecting someone else? Bit shorter, more intense, with specs and a scar?"

"Shove off," Draco rolled his eyes as he got to his feet, absently eating the apple while he slipped into his shoes and combed his fingers through his hair.

"Not even going to thank me, then? I should have known you're only behaved for Harry, don't think I won't tell him you refused to give me a kiss for him -"

"Thank you, now shut up before I spill your gift all over your polished boots," Draco growled. 

"What, am I really that offensive to you? I thought we were getting along now, Malfoy. Ginny said you were nice enough to her," he grumbled as he led Draco with a light grip on his elbow down the familiar foreboding hallways.

"Your sister is quite a bit more pleasant than you. And nicer-looking, too," Draco smirked when the idiot skipped a step. "I assure you, I am quite happily involved already and entirely disinterested in women, but I'm not blind."

"Oh. Well, who do you think sent us, anyway? Oh that reminds me…" He seemed to be searching for something in his robes, but Draco was distracted enough by his words to not notice.

"Potter -  _ Harry _ is who I have to thank for you and your sister sitting out here waiting with me?"

"'Course. Here, I'm not supposed to be giving you this, so read it quick. 'Mione's bewitched it to look like a note from Kat, but it'll be unreadable once the enchantment ends."

He recognized Harry's chicken scratch in dark red ink on the scrap of parchment, and devoured the note eagerly, ignoring Weasley for the moment.

_ Dragon - _

_ I'm sorry they're holding you, but you're not going to Azkaban, I swear it. I can't say more, but… Well, if you don't believe me, just remember Hermione's brilliant. This is just like the snake, trust me, it's going to be fine. _

_ Love, _

_ Your phoenix _

The words blurred as he finished it, but instead of disappearing or becoming a worthless smudge of ink, they unfolded into a sketch of a graceful line art phoenix. For the briefest moment, Draco forgot where he was, a small smile just reaching his lipa when Weasley cleared his throat loudly, alerting him to the presence of the Ministry prosecutor just joining them in the hall.

"That had better not be outside correspondence," the man said in a deceptively mild tone, as Draco hastily shoved it back into the orangutan's meaty paws.

"Of course not. Ronald was just showing me a drawing his girlfriend sketched," he explained quickly. "Something about a new emblem for The Order or some such."

The Head Auror inclined his head curiously at Weasley, his gray-blue eyes keen. "Is that so?"

"Er… Yes, Sir," he nodded, making as if to fold the paper. "She's got ideas about the future of the Order as a sort of public watch, a network of contacts to share information and strange happenings, reckons it might help to prevent another Voldemort."

"That sounds interesting in theory, but I think you kids will find such a secret alliance has its faults in the real world -"

"It's not going to be secret," Draco add-libbed, seeing Ronald's eyes go wide. Whether or not that had been part of Granger's agenda, he had no doubt it would be discussed now, and he wasn't simply making a show of interest for the sake of the prosecutor. If Hermione Granger had an idea to try and keep a private organization of people all watching both their fellows as well as the Ministry for signs of corruption or Dark Magic, he intended to help her, even if all he could do was pass ideas through her brawnier half.

"If people see or hear something odd and the Ministry ignores their complaints as you and I both know happens regardless of the state of government, they'd have to know who the members of the Order are to bring it to their attention," he reasoned. "Besides, we know all too well how dangerous clandestine groups meeting in secret can become."

Robards seemed to be struck speechless at that, and whether it was Draco's cutting sarcasm about his own situation, or Weasley's earnest testimony, he found himself walking free later that day. He wasn't entirely in the clear, they'd only granted him a parole of two years, and Ronald had been forced to turn over Draco's hawthorn wand to the Ministry vault, but he wasn't going to Azkaban.

They were in public, surrounded by Muggles outside of the Ministry above-ground entrance, but Draco had never cared less for his image in his entire life. He threw himself at the dark-haired, nervously laughing Harry, who had been in the action of pacing and probably making a spectacle of himself while Granger and Draco's mother looked on.

"God, Draco -" Harry's embrace threatened to crack his ribs, and to his utter shock, the idiot actually managed to lift him off his feet and spin them both around.

"What - put me down, you prat! - honestly," he shook his head, but couldn't hide his smile as those bright emerald eyes found his. "You really are such a Gryffindor, aren't you?"

"You like it," Harry insisted, silencing any further complaints by kissing him firmly, his lips and tongue demanding access and thoroughly mapping Draco's mouth. 

He crushed Harry to him, equally greedy for his affections, indulging them both until he couldn't breathe anymore and ignoring the jokes and chastisement of the people around them. When they finally parted, gasping, and Harry released him to his mother's embrace, he felt light, like an unmoored ship, as if the slightest twitch of a wand could send him floating through the air. 

"You look awful, my poor little dragon," his mother whispered, clasping him tightly. She held him out to examine at arm's length, a look of knowing in her clever gaze. "He certainly makes you happy, doesn't he?"

"Surprisingly, yes. I know it's sudden, but… Please, just give us a chance, will you?" 

The sound of Harry's bright laughter caught his attention for the briefest moment, as he grinned at something Granger was saying, and he caught Sirius Black watching him thoughtfully from beside the two. Narcissa's cool hand redirected his face, tipping it down towards her in a gentle reminder.

"I don't remember the last time I saw you smile like that," she told him quietly. "For that alone, I would sign over my every possession to Harry Potter. But you must know, if he hurts you -"

Draco caught her hand, bringing it down from his face to squeeze between both of his, placing a brief kiss to her knuckles. "I know, Mother. Thank you."

"Your father's been sentenced to five years. I'm having divorce papers drawn up," she went on. "I'm sure neither comes as a surprise, but I thought you should hear it from me."

Draco nodded, unsure exactly how to respond. There were the usual polite phrases that came to mind, things he'd been taught from an early age as a response to something he didn't wish to voice his opinion on, but he thought they were beyond those things now. So instead he glanced again at Black, who was now speaking quietly to Harry, and squeezed his mother's hands once more before she released him.

"Where will you stay, then? What's been done with the Manor?"

"Sirius has offered me a place as long as I want it, and I've been corresponding with Andromeda again through her daughter. She's going to marry the werewolf, did you know? I've been invited." She laughed, but it wasn't a mean laugh, it sounded more as if Narcissa was amused with herself. 

"Ah. Well, I imagine Harry will be dragging me along as well. What sort of gift, do you think? I'm sure I'll be roped into choosing, Merlin only knows what he'd pick out."

"I wouldn't go to overboard dear, they're not purebloods. Something Muggle, perhaps? You'll want to take him, anyway, it's a good test of a relationship between a couple, choosing a gift for friends." She frowned slightly in thought, no doubt considering that she would have to select something appropriate for niece as well.

"Imagine what Father would think, hearing us discuss my cousin's wedding to a werewolf, and actually planning to attend."

"Don't ruin such a fine day thinking of Lucius," she replied, taking his arm and drawing them both back to the group of Potter, his two cohorts and Sirius, adopting a smile that wasn't entirely false.

"Well, shall we celebrate our good fortune to be free to walk the streets on such a fine day?"

Narcissa's manner included everyone, even though Weasley looked as if he smelled something mouldy and Granger's brown eyes widened almost comically. A warm arm slipped around him, Harry's fingers lightly squeezing his hip as he grinned at Draco.

"We're celebrating you, what's your favorite sort of place?" He asked, because he was Potter and he was so genuinely selfless, he didn't seem to notice or care that his casual treatment of Draco was making the others uncomfortable.

"Ah, hmm," he shook his head, unable to process anything beyond Harry's touch and the tender smile he directed to Draco only. What he really wanted was to take Harry home, have a nice hot shower together and sink to his knees in the warm water, but he doubted anyone would appreciate hearing that out loud.

"It better be somewhere casual, I'm not going home to get bloody dressed all over again," Weasley grumbled, ruining Draco's filthy fantasy, though Granger shushed him quickly enough.

"In that case," Draco decided on a whim, figuring Harry was right, he may as well have whatever he wanted and knowing Ronald couldn't possibly object, "I believe I'd rather like an ice cream."

  
  
  


"Didn't get enough dessert at Fortescue's?" Harry murmured much later, over the sound of water running and the steam fogging thick around them.

"I've never had enough of you," Draco assured him, before he took his hard, wet length in hand and worked him lazily up and down.

Harry groaned something unintelligible, and then his hands tangled in Draco's hair and he was guided quite firmly to take Harry into his mouth. The touch of roughness startled him, but when he looked up, Harry's head had fallen back against the tile, his eyes closed against the spray of water.

"Go on," he encouraged in a low, devious purr. "Be a good boy, show me how much you missed me."

So Draco did, diving in to swallow as much as he could in one go, sliding his mouth up and down at Harry's urging, impossibly aroused by his rough grip and low groans. He'd never thought he could be so attracted to someone that just performing the act itself would be erotic, but he was moaning mindlessly in the back of his throat, moving faster, dragging himself closer so he could take him all the way to the base.

"Fuck, Draco! Yes, like that, just -" he dropped one hand to wrap around his own prick, and without it there to push against Harry's hip, he bucked shallowly into Draco's mouth.

He picked up the pace again, his hand working and squeezing while he brought Harry off, swallowing it all eagerly as he groaned and thrust into Draco's mouth. He only stopped licking and sucking him clean when Harry pushed him away, and then he was sprawling back against the wall, his aching prick throbbing in Harry's hand.

"Are you - Christ, you really are a whore for me, aren't you?" Draco blinked slowly as Harry crawled over him, kissing him without a care for the inevitable taste.

"For you, yes," he agreed when they parted. Draco tilted his head, watching the hand slowly stroking him for a second before raising his eyes to Harry. "Didn't we have a sort of agreement there?"

"Yeah," Harry kissed his way briefly down Draco's body before positioning himself to return the favor. "I missed you as well, you know."

"Really? I'm not sure I believe you. You don't seem very eager to show me. Did you find someone else to whore yourself out to while I was -"

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy."

Green eyes flashed open at him, the hand around him gripping mire tightly, and Draco grinned. "Suck my cock, Potter."

"With pleasure."


End file.
